Growing Pains I: Choices
by Debbie Kluge
Summary: Story #7 in the Jealousy Series. A confrontation between Jonny and Benton has unexpected repercussions. Complete
1. Part I

**NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR**

There are pivotal points in our lives when an action or a decision will change life as we know it forever. Some of those points are joyous, celebrated occasions that years from now we will point to with pride and say that we always knew it was the right thing to do. Other times, the decisions will be much harder and when you look back on them, the end results may not be all you had hoped. That's the way life goes. It's also important to remember that any choice we make is like the stone thrown into a quiet pool . . . the ripples will often have far-reaching effects . . . many of them totally unexpected.

There are those who say that the most difficult choices we ever make are those that come in that gray area between child and adulthood. The goal of independence is both attractive and difficult to attain, and the road to it is never easy. No two people will see those choices in the same way . . . particularly when it comes to a parent and child. So it's to be expected that when a child begins making his (or her) own decisions, particularly about significant events that will have far-reaching effects, that his parents may have a radically different view of what the "right" choice should be.

But difficult decisions that have lasting effects are not limited to the young. Each and every one of us make them on a daily basis, and we all must learn to grow and adapt to the changes that come as a result.

So, with that in mind, I offer the first in a set of stories that I collectively call . . .

  
  


GROWING PAINS  
Or  
When Did Life Get This Complicated?

  
  


**Growing Pains I:  
Choices**

by

Debbie Kluge

  


Part I

Jonny stared at the letter in his hand in stunned disbelief. Not accepted? How could that be? Taking a deep breath, he started back at the beginning and read through the letter again slowly.

_Dear Mr. Quest:_

We regret to inform you that after careful consideration, the Admissions Committee has determined that we will be unable to grant your request for admission to Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The Committee feels certain that you would have been an excellent student and we regret that the number of outstanding candidates for the limited number of available spaces in the freshman class makes it impossible for us to offer you admission at this time.

We have no doubt that you will be highly successful in the pursuit of your education and your future career, and regret that you will be unable to pursue those goals at our institution. Thank you for your interest in our University and we wish you the best of luck in all your future endeavors.

Sincerely,

  


Gordon R. Rankin, Ph.D.  
Chairman  
Admissions Committee

Jonny sat there for a long time, staring blankly at the words. Hadji had been admitted to M.I.T. and had seriously considered going there before he had settled on Columbia. Jessie had been accepted and had already decided to go there in the fall. And Kefira had even been accepted on a late application before declining to join Hadji at Columbia. How could it be possible that he hadn't been accepted? His grades were good enough, the interview had gone extremely well, and the Admissions Committee had told him that his acceptance was all but a certainty. His father was even on the Board of Trustees. This just didn't make sense.

Folding the letter carefully, he tucked it back into the envelope and stuffed it into his pocket. He wasn't going to accept this. Not yet. He considered going to his father and asking him to intercede, but rejected that thought almost immediately. He didn't want to get in that way. He wanted to get in on his own merits. It wasn't that he didn't have other choices. He'd been accepted into every other school he'd applied to, including Texas A&M, Stanford, Berkeley, Columbia, Harvard and even Oxford. But Jess wanted to go to M.I.T. So that's where they were going to go. What was he going to do if he couldn't get in? He shoved that thought away. No, this had to be a mistake. It just _had_ to be.

  


* * * * *

  


Jonny tried for over a week to reach Dr. Rankin. His first thought . . . that he contact the man via e-mail . . . he rejected after only the briefest consideration. That simply didn't have the personal touch that he felt would be important. He decided that the best bet was a phone call. So the day after he got the letter, he attempted to call Dr. Rankin. The secretary had told him that Dr. Rankin was in meetings and wasn't available, so he left a message and asked him to return the call. He waited for two days before trying again. This time he was in his office, but with someone. So Jonny waited for half an hour and called again. This time, the man had just left for lunch . . . even though it was only 10:45. Again, he left a message but never received a call back. The next day he tried one more time. This time the man had left for the day . . . at 2:15 in the afternoon. It was then that he began to suspect the letter was no mistake. Finally, he decided he would simply have to go see Dr. Rankin in person.

He couldn't explain why, but he simply couldn't bring himself to tell anyone about the situation. Especially Jess. He had no idea what he would say to her if this really wasn't a mistake. Every time he considered it, he felt more than a little sick.

It took almost ten days for him to find a time when he could disappear for the day without anyone asking any questions. He knew that Jessie had a fieldtrip to Moosehead Lake in western Maine for her wildlife biology class during the first week in March, so he decided to go to M.I.T. the day she was gone. He told Race and his father that he and Matt Evans were doing an overnight winter camping trip. Neither man was surprised, since Jonny and the Evans brothers often did things together. Bobby and Matt had looked at him rather strangely, but both agreed to cover for him if anyone asked. After that was set up, it was a simple matter to notify the school guidance counselor that he was making a day trip to inspect a potential college campus to get himself clear. He left home at about 7:30 that evening and drove until he reached the far side of Portland. There he found a cheap motel and slept until about 6:30 the next morning, and by seven he was on the road again.

He reached the outskirts of Boston by 8:30. There, he found a park-and-ride lot and hopped onto the subway. He knew from experience that taking the T would be both faster and easier on his nerves than trying to find parking down by the riverfront in Cambridge. He wanted to be sure to leave himself as much time as he could in case he had to try to track Dr. Rankin down. He hadn't called ahead for an appointment. If he was right and the man was ducking him, he wasn't going to give him advanced warning that he was coming.

The Green line deposited him at the Central Square station at a little after 9:00. He walked down Massachusetts Avenue toward campus trying to figure out exactly what he was going to say. But somehow he couldn't find anything that sounded right. With a sigh, he decided the only thing he could do was get in to see the man and then play it by ear.

When he walked into the Admissions Office, the staff was working busily and he was the only visitor. Breathing a sigh of relief, he stepped to the receptionist's desk and said, "Hi! Can you tell me where I can find Nancy?" His tone said he knew the woman and was expected. The girl smiled and pointed to a desk at the far end of the room. "Thanks," he said, smiling at her, and then walked the length of the room confidently. For the first time, he was grateful for all of the phone calls he'd made to this office and the number of times he'd talked to Dr. Rankin's secretary. When he reached the desk, he stopped and waited politely while the woman finished her phone conversation. When she hung up, she looked up and smiled at him. 

"Hello. May I help you?"

"Nancy?" he asked.

She looked at him, a bit puzzled. "Yes," she agreed.

"Hi. My name is Jonathan Quest and I've talked to you several times over the last couple of weeks."

Nancy's smile faltered and she shot a quick look at a closed door not far away. Then her smile was back. "Of course, Mr. Quest. How nice to finally meet you. How can I help you today?"

"I apologize for turning up so unexpectedly, but I really do need to talk with Dr. Rankin. I'm more than happy to wait, if he can just spare me 15 minutes of his time."

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Quest, but Dr. Rankin has appointments all morning and then he's leaving for a conference and won't be back until next week."

"I see," Jonny replied pleasantly. "Then I'll be more than happy to take him to lunch." He gestured to a chair not far away. "I'll just wait." Turning, he walked over and sat down.

Nancy hesitated and then rose and went to the closed door. After knocking, she stepped into the office and closed it behind her. Jonny didn't figure she would be gone long and he was right. Within two minutes, she was back.

"Mr. Quest, I'm so sorry, but I've spoken with Dr. Rankin and he advises me that he simply doesn't have the time to see you today. He apologizes and suggests that the next time you need to see him, you might call ahead and make an appointment."

He contemplated her for a long moment and then said quietly, "Why is he avoiding me, Nancy?" 

She looked flustered and sputtered, "Oh now, Mr. Quest, I'm sure that . . . I mean, he's not . . ."

"He **is** avoiding me, you know. He's never in when I call, he won't return phone calls, and he's finding reasons not to see me. What's going on? Fifteen minutes of his time would probably resolve the issue and that would be the end of it."

"I really am sorry," she replied, sounding honestly regretful, "but he just _doesn't_ have the time today."

"When would you suggest that I try again?" he asked.

That flustered her even more. "Oh, well . . . I don't know . . . he's terribly busy . . ."

"I see." Jonny stood abruptly. "I believe you've made yourself clear enough, Nancy." Turning, he stalked out of the room without another word. 

Outside the building, he stopped and gazed out across the snow-covered Killian Court blindly. Now what was he going to do? He winced and rubbed his chest just below his breastbone. Ever since he got that letter, he had developed sharp, stabbing pains in his stomach. He was so tense . . . he hoped he wasn't developing an ulcer. Maybe he should see Dr. Mason when he got home. Trying to think clearly, he contemplated his next step. If he couldn't get in to see Dr. Rankin, then maybe he could find one or more of the committee members. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a sheet of paper. Several days earlier, anticipating this very problem, he'd tried to remember the people he'd interviewed with. There had been five committee members, counting Dr. Rankin. He couldn't remember all of them, but he did remember that there was a woman named Skye Sperling and an Engineering professor name Sikes. He thought about it for a minute and then had an idea. Spinning on his heel, he strode off toward Barker Library.

Entering the library, he looked around and spotted a computer terminal not far away. Going over, he settled down and began typing quickly. It didn't take him more than a few minutes to locate the two committee members he remembered. Skye Sperling was a professor in the Art Department and her office was in the Wiesner Building over on Kendall Square, and Sikes was Benjamin Sikes, a faculty member in the department of Civil and Environmental Engineering. Looking at the campus address, Jonny decided he'd start with Dr. Sikes since he was close . . . his office was right along Killian Court in the Pappalardo Engineering Lab.

Soon, he was wandering along a long, brightly lit corridor searching for room 327. Finally locating it, he knocked on the door. No answer. After a moment, he knocked a second time.

"He's not there," a voice behind him said cheerfully.

Turning, he found a tall, gawky-looking young man with dark hair grinning at him.

"Hi," Jonny replied with a friendly grin. "How do you know he's not there?"

"He never is," the young man replied. "If he's around here anywhere, he's in the lab. He all but lives there."

"Can you point me in that direction?"

"Sure." The young man pointed up the hall. "See the exit sign at the end of the hall? Take the staircase down to second floor. When you get down there, take a left and go down the hall until you see a short corridor on your right that leads back toward the center of the building. It should be about halfway down the hallway. You'll find a door with a swipe reader on it near the end of the short corridor. If Sikes is anywhere around the building, he'll be in there. There's a window - you should be able to see him if he's there. Just pound on the door until he notices you. And don't worry if it takes a while to attract his attention. He can get sort of wrapped up sometimes."

Jonny grinned. "I know how it is. My dad's the same way."

The stranger laughed. "Your dad's a professor, too?"

"No," Jonny replied with a laugh, "but he's a research scientist. When he gets involved, a meteor could strike right next door and he'd never hear it."

"That's Sikes," the young man agreed.

"Hey, thanks for the help!"

"No problem, man."

Following the young man's directions, Jonny soon found himself standing before the indicated door. Looking through the window, he spotted a short, tubby man in glasses bending over a large tank filled with water. As he stood, Jonny recognized him as Benjamin Sikes. Jonny knocked loudly on the door and after a moment, the man looked up. Jonny waved and gestured at him. With another quick look at the tank, Sikes crossed to the door and opened it.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Dr. Sikes, but I wonder if I might talk to you for a moment. I don't know if you remember me, but I . . ."

"Quest, right?"

"Yes, sir. Jonathan Quest. I was a candidate for admission for next fall."

"I remember you. I do hope you're going to join us in the fall."

"Well, sir, that's what I'd like to talk to you about."

Sikes looked at him in surprise. "All right," he replied. "Give me a minute and we'll go back to my office where we can sit down."

Jonny nodded and gestured toward the main hall. "I'll wait for you out here."

A short time later, the two of them entered the small office one floor up. Jonny looked around. The place was a mess. Every single flat surface, including most of the floor, was stacked with books and papers.

Sikes waved a hand at a larger than normal stack of books. "Sorry for the mess. You can sit there. Just shove the stuff off onto the floor. I'll sort it out later."

When Jonny finished clearing the indicated spot, he found a chair buried beneath the clutter and sat down upon it.

"Now, Mr. Quest, what can I do for you?" Sikes asked, leaning back in a well-worn green desk chair.

"I was wondering if you could tell me why the committee rejected my application for admission."

Sikes frowned. "What do you mean?"

Jonny reached into his jacket and pulled out the letter. Opening it, he handed it to the man. Sikes' eyebrows rose steadily as he scanned the document.

"Dr. Sikes, please understand that I can accept it if there was a reason I was rejected. I'd just like to know what it was."

"What does Dr. Rankin say?"

"Nothing. He won't see me."

If possible, Sikes' eyebrows rose even further. "Won't see you?"

"No, sir. I've been trying for almost two weeks. He's never in when I call, nor will he return my calls even though I've left a number where I can be reached at any time. So today I drove down here from Maine to try to meet with him and I can't even get past his secretary."

"So you decided to come to me."

"Not you, specifically. When Dr. Rankin refused to see me, I decided to see if I could talk to the committee members. You were the first one I found. So can you tell me, Dr. Sikes? Why I wasn't admitted?"

"No, Mr. Quest, I can't." He waved his hand to cut off Jonny's half-formed protest. "I can't tell you why you were rejected, because you weren't. In fact, you were one of only about six other potential students that the committee was unanimous about admitting. I don't understand this at all." Sikes looked at the young man thoughtfully for a long moment and then nodded as if coming to some kind of decision. "Do you have some time, Mr. Quest?"

"Yes, sir. As much as you need."

"Good. Then sit there and let me see what I can find out." Turning away, he began sifting through the pile of stuff on his desk. After a few moments of searching, he made a soft sound of satisfaction and pulled a beaten, expandable pocket file out of one of the stacks. He quickly flipped through the file and retrieved a single sheet of paper. Glancing at it, he picked up the phone and began to dial. After a few seconds, he leaned back and said, "Douglas? Benjamin Sikes. How are you doing today? Fine, fine. The paper? Yes, I finished it. I'm still waiting to hear back from the publication review board. Thanks. I welcome all the good will and positive thoughts I can get. Say, Douglas, I need to ask you something. Remember the young man we interviewed for admission in November? Good looking, tall, blonde, exceedingly bright, name of Quest? Yes, Benton Quest's boy . . . that's the one. Have you heard anything about his application for admission being rejected? Yes, I know the vote was unanimous. That's what's puzzling me. The boy is sitting here with me right now and I've got the rejection letter in my hand. He also says that George is refusing to see him and won't explain the reason for the rejection. So you haven't heard anything about this, either. Stranger and stranger. I'm going to give the other members of the committee a call and see if I can't find out what's going on. I'd hate to lose a student of his caliber over some kind of administrative snafu. Yeah, I'll let you know what I find out. Thanks." 

Over the course of the next twenty minutes, Jonny listened as Dr. Sikes tracked down and talked to all of the committee members. In each case, the reply was always the same. No one knew anything about Jonny not being admitted to M.I.T. Finally, Sikes sat back and looked at Jonny again. "Well, that's it. No one knows anything about this."

"Could it be that Dr. Rankin made the decision himself, as head of the committee?" Jonny ventured hesitantly. He simply couldn't understand what was going on.

Sikes shook his head. "No. Rankin may be the head of the committee, but he doesn't have the authority to overrule the majority vote." Standing up abruptly, Sikes reached for his coat. "Come along, Mr. Quest. You may not be able to get by George Rankin's secretary, but I can."

A short time later, Jonny followed Sikes into the Admissions Office. The receptionist smiled at him again as Sikes strode past her and walked up to the secretary's desk. "I need to see him, Nancy," he said. Jonny saw her eyes widen with alarmed recognition as she spotted him.

"No, Dr. Sikes! Please, he's in . . ."

"Then he can get out," Sikes said flatly and walked right up to the door. Without a preliminary knock, Sikes opened it and barged in. George Rankin looked up sharply. He was probably just past middle age, with a thin, acetic face, a spare, whip-like build, straight black hair that formed a pronounced widow's peak in the center of his forehead, and dark eyes that appeared almost black. The frown he directed at Sikes would have quelled most men that Jonny knew.

"Benjamin, what is the meaning of this?" He flicked a swift glance at Jonny and then glared at the man facing him across the desk once more. "And who is this?"

"Don't give me that, George. You know exactly who this is. You've spent the last two weeks trying to avoid him. So now that he's managed to get past the barricades you've erected, why don't you answer his question? I'd like to hear the reply myself, seeing as how the committee voted to admit him. Care to explain it?"

Rankin looked from Jonny to Sikes and then sighed. "All right. Sit down . . . both of you." Rankin glared at Jonny. "You just couldn't leave it alone, could you?"

"No, sir, I'm sorry, but I can't. As I told Dr. Sikes, I want to attend your university and I'm not prepared to give up on that idea until I know the precise reason why that isn't going to be possible."

"Well, I wish I could tell you, Mr. Quest, but I'm afraid I can't. To be honest, I don't know why you weren't admitted either."

"What are you talking about, George?" Sikes said irritably. "The admission vote was unanimous. And I've talked to the other committee members. No one knew anything about this."

"I mean exactly what I said," Rankin snapped. "I don't know why the boy was rejected. We forwarded the usual recommendation list to the Provost for approval. I expected it back within a week or two with the official go ahead to send the acceptance letters. I got the list back, all right, but young Quest's name had been marked out and there was a note from Brown himself stating that we were to go to the first alternate on the list. When I tried to question him on it, the man simply told me that the decision had been made and we were to do as he said."

"But _why_?" Jonny demanded in bewilderment. "I don't understand!"

For the first time, Rankin's face seemed to soften and he said regretfully, "I know son, and I'm very sorry. I don't understand it, either. But even if we could find out why it happened, there really isn't much that can be done. The offer letters have gone out and we've received the acknowledgements. Even if the rejection was rescinded, it's too late. The freshman class has been filled and we can't withdraw any of the offers to make room for you."

Jonny sat there numbly, not knowing what to do. Everything he and Jessie had planned seemed to be crumbling into dust. And what was worse, he couldn't even seem to find out why.

"It really isn't the end of the world, you know," Rankin said gently.

After a long moment, Jonny replied, "No sir, I suppose it's not. But you really have no idea how many plans this has destroyed." He stared at the carpet for a long time. Finally, he looked up into the sympathetic gaze of the man behind the desk and said quietly, "I understand that there's nothing that can be done. But I wonder if you could do me a favor."

"If I can," Rankin acknowledged.

"I want to see Provost Brown. I think that, at the very least, someone owes me the courtesy of an explanation."

Rankin stared at the young man for a long time. Finally, he nodded. Reaching for the phone, he dialed a number from memory. After a few seconds, he said, "Bob? This is George Rankin. I wonder if you could make a few moments for me? I have something I need to talk with you about. You can? Good, I'll be right down." Rising briskly, Rankin said, "Come along, Mr. Quest. Let's see if we can get some answers."

As Rankin came around the desk, Sikes rose and held out his hand to Jonny. "Good luck, Mr. Quest. I'm very sorry to know you won't be here this fall."

"Thank you, Dr. Sikes," he replied heavily, returning the handshake. "I'm sorry not to have the opportunity to take classes with you." Then Jonny followed the other man out.

The Admissions Office was on the fifth floor of the Administration building. Provost Brown's office was almost directly below, two floors down, so it took very little time to reach their destination. Rankin nodded to the secretary, who waved him to the door. Knocking briskly, Rankin opened the door and walked in. Provost Brown was almost the exact opposite of George Rankin. He was tall and stocky, with a heavily lined face and iron gray hair. His eyes were a pale, washed-out blue, but when they looked at Jonny he saw lively interest reflected there.

"Bob, I'd like to you meet Jonathan Quest. Mr. Quest was a candidate for admission to the fall class. Mr. Quest, Provost Brown."

Jonny nodded. "Sir."

"Mr. Quest. Please, have a seat." He contemplated the young man quietly for a moment. Finally, he said, "I don't think I need to guess why you're here, do I, Mr. Quest?"

"No, sir. I suspect you already know. I'd like to know why I won't be able to attend here this fall."

"There are a great many highly qualified applicants who request admission to this school, Mr. Quest. We have an outstanding record and it attracts the best and the brightest."

"Yes, you do. That's the reason I wanted to come here. And I could accept it if it was purely that the competition was stiff and I didn't measure up. But that's not the case, sir. The entire committee recommended me for admission and I _still_ didn't get in. As I've explained to Dr. Rankin, I understand that there is nothing that can be done about it now. But I would still like to know the reason why."

"Mr. Quest, I really don't see what purpose it would serve . . ."

"Is it really that hard of a question, Dr. Brown?" Jonny demanded, his temper finally beginning to fray. "I've lost count of the number of times I've asked it. I've also lost track of the number of times I've heard, 'I don't know' as the answer. I'm sorry, sir, but that's just not good enough."

Brown sighed and sat forward, clasping his hands in front of him on the desk. "The directive came down to me from the President's Office."

Jonny's jaw clenched. Very carefully he replied, "All right, then how do I get in to see President Vest?"

Brown focused on him sharply. "Do you know President Vest, Mr. Quest?"

"I've met him. He's a friend of my father's."

"A friend of your father's," Brown repeated softly. He watched Jonny closely as he continued, "Your father is a member of the Company, isn't he? One of the Trustees?"

"Yes," Jonny replied shortly.

"And what does your father have to say about this situation?"

"I haven't discussed it with him. I don't believe in pulling strings or applying pressure, Dr. Brown. I decided a long time ago that if I was to get into this school, it was going to be on my own merits. I'm not going to trade on my father's influence."

"I see." The Provost sat back in his chair and stared at Jonny with an unreadable expression. Finally, he said slowly, "I've been given to understand, Mr. Quest, that the decision to rescind your admission came down from the highest levels."

Jonny looked at the man in confusion. "But I don't understand why President Vest would . . ."

"The _highest_ levels, Mr. Quest," the man repeated softly. It took a moment for the emphasis to register, but when it did, Jonny could feel all the color draining from his face. "As a personal favor . . ." 

Jonny sat staring blindly at the surface of the desk, barely even able to breathe. The implication was clear. _A personal favor . . ._ to someone at the highest levels . . . to one of the trustees . . . to his own father. His _**father**_ had done this? But **WHY???** Finally, he looked up at the man across the desk from him again. The pity in his eyes was almost more than Jonny could bear. Taking a deep breath, he rose and held out his hand. In some abstract part of his brain, he was proud to see that it wasn't shaking.

"Thank you for your time, Dr. Brown. I appreciate your help . . . " He looked the man directly in the eyes. " . . . and your candor."

"You're very welcome, Mr. Quest. I am sincerely sorry that you won't be a part of our freshman class. I believe it is our loss."

Jonny nodded mutely. Turning to the other man, he shook his hand and said, "Dr. Rankin." Without another word, Jonny Quest turned on his heel and walked out.

  


* * * * *

  


Darkness was gathering by the time Jonny parked the car on the concrete drive near the garage behind the Quest Compound's main house. In the five plus hours it had taken him to make the drive back, he had gone over and over what Dr. Brown had told him and the conclusion was unavoidable. For some reason, Benton Quest has used his influence as a member of the Board of Trustees to have his son removed from the freshman admissions list of M.I.T. Whatever had caused him to make that decision had not been discussed with Jonny . . . only acted upon by his father. That knowledge was like a knife in his gut.

Initial numbness had faded as he made his way off campus and back to his car. A growing sense of betrayal had soon taken over, so that by the time he finally arrived back at the Compound, the only emotion he had left was fury. He flung the back door open and stormed into the kitchen, causing Mrs. Evans to start violently.

"Where is my father?" he demanded harshly.

The woman hesitated and then replied, "In his study . . ."

He shoved through the swinging door and headed directly for his father's study without even stopping to shed his coat. When he reached the door, he flung it open with such force that it slammed into the wall with a loud report. Jonny thought he heard the heavy hardwood crack.

"So, you want to tell me why???" he demanded in fury, breathing heavily.

"Why what, son?" his father replied, looking shaken and bewildered.

"Why you had my admission to M.I.T. pulled." Something flickered on Benton's face briefly and then was gone.

"Jonny, why would I do . . ."

"Don't _**LIE**_ to me!" Jonny yelled, his voice rising sharply. "I know! I spent the day there, trying to figure out what happened . . . why my admission was denied when the committee members told me on the day I interviewed that admission was almost a certainty . . . why the head of the Admissions' Committee wouldn't talk to me when I called to find out what was going on. Dr. Sikes was absolutely astonished when I showed him the letter. It seems the vote was unanimous to admit me. Do you have any idea what it took to get in to see Dr. Rankin? Or Provost Brown? Or how _stupid_ I felt when Provost Brown told me that the action had been taken on behalf of one of the trustees? From _**YOU!!!**_ Why? Just tell me **WHY!!!!**"

"What's going on?" Race demanded, stepping in through the open door and pushing his way past Jonny to put himself between them. Benton was pale as a ghost, sitting immobile in his desk chair as his red-faced, furious son confronted him across the expanse of the desk. "What's happened?" Behind Jonny, Race saw Jessie and Estella appear. Jessie crossed to the younger man and caught his arm urgently.

"Ask my father!" Jonny spat. "Ask him why he pressured the Admissions Committee at M.I.T. into denying me admission for fall!"

The silence was absolute as Jessie turned to stare at Benton Quest in shock. Finally, Race asked quietly, "Benton, is this true?"

Suddenly, Benton surged to his feet, a hard, cold light in his eyes. "Yes, it's true," he replied bluntly. "I spoke to President Vest and asked him, as a personal favor to me, if he would have the Committee deny your application for admission. I told him that, due to a family situation, it would be better for you to attend school further away, and that if you were denied admission it would be easier for you to adjust." He gestured to the two young people standing in front of him. "The two of you are way too young for the things that have been going on around here, and I'll be damned if I pack you both off to M.I.T. together and allow it to continue." Benton nodded grimly at their expressions. "Oh, yes, I know about the 'extracurricular activities' that go on in this house when none of the rest of us are around! It's time that the two of you get some distance and perspective on your relationship. A couple of years of separation while you're at school will be good for both of you." He gestured at his son. "You can go to Stanford or Berkeley while Jessie goes to M.I.T. That will give you . . ."

_**"NO! You had NO right!!!!" **_ The fury was white hot now. Jonny's vision had become preternaturally sharp, focusing solely on his father. "We are **NOT** children, to be ordered around like . . . like . . . _**property**_!" he spat back. "You are **NOT** going to dictate to me when I see Jessie, what I do when I'm with her, or what school I will attend! Those are **MY** choices."

"As long as you live in _**MY**_ house . . ."

Race jumped in. **"Stop!"** he said frantically. "Stop it **now!** You're both too angry. You need to calm down before you both say things you'll regret!"

During the entire exchange, Jessie had stood silently beside Jonny, too stunned to say anything. It was as though one of her own parents had turned on her. She had loved and trusted this man. For him to have done something like this to them . . . Finally, she looked directly at Benton Quest. What he saw in her face, she couldn't say, but whatever it was stopped him even more effectively than Race's raised voice. She felt a single tear trace its way down her cheek, as she whispered, "I know it's been difficult for you, and I've tried so _hard_ never to give you any reason to think I was trying to take him away. All I ever wanted was to be a part of both of your lives. I thought you loved me . . . that you were happy for us . . ." With a strangled sob, she turned and, shoving past her mother, ran from the room.

As she fled, Jonny felt an almost overpowering desire to strike his father as hard as he could. With the last of his self-control, he checked himself, knowing that Race was right. He had to get out of there before the situation got totally out of control. **_"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"_** Jonny snarled and, with a final, furious look, spun and ran after Jessie.

He took the stairs three at a time and went straight to her room. As quick as he had been, Estella had been quicker. She stood at the closed door, rattling the knob frantically.

"Jessica, open this door. Please, sweetheart. It will be all right. Just let me in."

Jonny strode up to the door and shoved the woman rudely. She stumbled back, coming up against the wall on the other side of the hall. She stood staring at the enraged young man, in shock.

"Jess, let me in," Jonny demanded, his barely controlled fury causing his voice to resonate deeply. After a few seconds, he heard the lock disengage and the door opened a crack. He could see her checking to be certain that it was actually him at the door, before opening it wide enough to allow him to slip in. The instant the door began to open, Estella straightened and tried to step back into the gap.

"Jessie, please let me . . ."

_**"Get out!!!"**_ Jonny snarled, turning on her in fury. His anger was simply too great at that instant to tolerate any adult, even though some part of his mind realized that it was unfair to turn his rage at his father on Jessie's mother.

Jessie reached out, grabbed his arm, and pulled him into her room swiftly. Estella had only the briefest glimpse of the pain and disillusionment on her daughter's face before Jessie said, "Go away, Mother," and shut the door in her face. The sound of the lock sliding home once more was loud in the ensuing silence.

Jonny and Jessie faced each other wordlessly. Neither knew what to say to the other. The future that they had so carefully planned together seemed to be lying in shattered pieces at their feet. Jonny fought desperately to rein in his temper. As he began to calm down, reaction set in and he started to shake. Jessie leaped forward and threw her arms around him. He clutched her to him tightly, feeling the sobs that wracked her. A loud knocking on the door caused them to step apart. Both turned to face the door, unconsciously arranging themselves shoulder-to-shoulder against whoever stood on the other side of the barrier.

"Jessie, I need to talk with the two of you. Let me in, sweetheart."

The two of them looked at each other again.

"I don't dare face any of them right now," Jonny whispered hoarsely. "I'm still too angry. Race is right . . . I'll say or do something I'll live to regret."

"Jessie, open this door," her father demanded sharply.

"He'll find a key," she replied in the same soft tone, dragging her sleeve over her face to dry it. "Or he'll break it down, if he wants in that badly." On the other side of the door, they could hear the sound of indistinct voices in conversation.

"I need to get out of here, then."

"_**We**_ need to get out of here," she replied, and Jonny saw her eyes fill with tears again. "I can't face them, either, and I won't let them see me break down again!"

Jessie spun suddenly and strode to the closet. Almost instantly, she returned with a coiled length of rope. She knelt and tied one end of it quickly to the leg of the bed. Crossing to the window, she opened it and tossed the rope out.

"Jess, we can't do this," Jonny hissed frantically. "You don't have a coat! The temperature is dropping too fast, and you can bet that they won't let us anywhere _near_ a car . . ."

"What they don't know . . ." she replied. Grabbing him by the hand, she drew him swiftly back to the closet. "In! We hide here and let them _think_ we left. Then, once they're occupied elsewhere, we get out of here." 

A loud blow struck the door once more. _**"JESSICA!"**_

As they dove into the closet, they both heard a key in the door. They crouched in the back of the closet, hidden by several full length dresses and a clutter of sports equipment, and listened as the door opened.

"Jessica, where are . . . _**Shit!**_" They could hear Race stride across the floor and then wood creaked. They could almost see him leaning out over the windowsill, staring at the rope dangling down the side of the house.

Footsteps sounded again and Benton's voice demanded, "Where are they?"

"It looks like they're gone," Race replied.

"Gone! Gone where?" The steps quickened, and again they could hear the creak of wood as Benton leaned out of the window. "IRIS, scan the surrounding grounds for Jonny and Jessie" he demanded.

The response was a long time coming. "SENSORS INDICATE THAT JONNY QUEST AND JESSIE BANNON ARE NOT ON THE SURROUNDING GROUNDS."

"The cars!" Benton said suddenly. The sound of running feet receded quickly. After a moment, the two of them crept out of the closet. The room was empty. Jessie started for the door, but Jonny stopped her.

"Wait," he whispered. Turning, he went swiftly to Jessie's computer and began typing.

"What are you doing?" Jessie hissed. "We have to get out of here!"

"If we don't blind ourselves to IRIS, we won't get ten feet outside any door of this house. Hang on, I'm almost there . . . Got it! Come on, let's go . . . " They both spun . . . and came face-to-face with Estella.

"Going somewhere?" she asked quietly.

"Out," Jonny replied stiffly.

"Out where?"

"Let us by, Mother," Jessie said, stepping forward.

"Not until I know where you're going."

"Mother . . ." Jessie said dangerously, but Jonny reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder.

"We don't know, Estella," Jonny said, struggling to keep his temper in check. "We just need to get out for a while. I can't face my father again . . . not yet. I . . . I need some time . . ."

Estella eyed him for a long moment. Then she nodded slowly. "That's a good idea. Nothing should be done in anger. I'll let you go, and I'll even cover for you with both of your fathers . . . at least for a while. But I want a promise in return."

"What?" Jonny asked suspiciously, his hands clenching into fists in spite of his best efforts to relax.

"You go out and calm down and then you come back home. You don't disappear. Will you do that?"

Jonny thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, you have our word . . ."

Estella crossed to him suddenly. Reaching up, she laid a hand on his cheek. As she looked up at him, he could see tears swimming in her eyes. "Come back to us, Jonny. We can't lose you . . ."

In the warmth of her obvious concern, he could feel some of his fury drain away. "We'll come back," he promised again. Then catching Jessie's hand, the two of them slipped out, leaving Estella standing alone in the middle of Jessie's room.

  


* * * * *

  


The sound of the surf was calming as Jonny and Jessie jogged along the narrow beach on the far end of the Compound property. They had made it safely out of the house and disappeared into the night without running into their fathers. Having snatched Jessie's coat, they ducked out the front door of the house just as they heard Benton and Race come in the back. Avoiding the wash of light from the windows, they sprinted for the nearby treeline. Once they reached the cover of the trees, they turned toward the coast as if reading each other's minds. The growing cold would take its toll quickly if they didn't find shelter, and they both knew a place that would provide that, as well as privacy. As they neared the edge of the Compound property, they turned from the waters edge and made their way to the non-descript passage that led to the lookout cave in the cliffs. Jonny and Hadji had found the cave shortly after the Quests had moved to the Maine Compound, and for years it had remained their secret place. Only five people knew of its existence and it still served as a place the young people could retreat to when they needed some undisturbed time alone. They climbed to the high cave in silence, using flashlights that were kept secreted in a hidden alcove for that purpose.

Jonny and Hadji had kept very little in the cave when they played there as children. A small trunk had stored an assortment of toys and an oil lantern. Since Jonny had first brought Jessie there, other items had found their way into the cave. Now, carefully mounted leather drapes could be closed to cut down on drafts through the two entrances to the cave, and a large, heavy rug covered much of the floor. Several oversized beanbag chairs provided seating and a kerosene heater could be lit to provide warmth in cold weather. A second trunk held an assortment of other items including blankets and pillows for the rare occasions when the two of them chose to sleep in the cave, and a metal container with a tight-fitting lid provided storage for an assortment of dried food. The play cave had been converted into a haven for the two of them away from the rest of the world.

Jessie moved to secure the drapes across the doors as Jonny lit the lanterns that now hung from three evenly spaced brackets on the cave walls. Jessie pulled one of the beanbag chairs out into the middle of the cave, as Jonny placed the heater nearby and lit it. Finally, the two of them sat down and looked at each other.

After a moment, Jessie's eyes fell and Jonny saw tears shimmering in them again. "I'm so sorry, Jonny," she said in a low voice.

"Why?" he asked. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"This is my fault. I was the one who convinced you to . . ."

"You did not!" he interrupted her sharply. "The decision to make love was a mutual one, you know that. I wasn't pressured into anything. I wanted this as much as you did. And it was the _right_ choice. Don't tell me you're having second thoughts now!?"

Her head snapped up. "**NO**! I'll **never** regret that decision. But Jonny, that choice caused this. You know it's true."

After a minute, he sighed and nodded. "Yes, I know."

"You tried to warn me," she continued. "You said your dad wasn't ready for this."

They were both silent, thinking about that. Finally Jonny shook his head. "But that's not the point, Jess. Whatever problems my father has with the things we've been doing, it still gave him no right to do what he did."

"Tell me what happened." Jonny told her about getting the letter from M.I.T. and his efforts to find out why he had been rejected. When he finished, she rubbed her forehead wearily. "So now they're going to separate us again."

Jonny stood abruptly and began to pace. "No! That's not an option."

"Then what are we going to do?"

"We could just leave."

"You promised my mom that we wouldn't."

"No, I didn't. I promised your mom that we would go out and calm down and then come back. I didn't say anything about not leaving again."

Jessie thought about that. Finally, she shook her head. "No, we can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because if we try to walk out now, your father could call the cops and have us brought back here and there's nothing we could do about it. We aren't of legal age, yet."

"_If_ he can find us."

"Do you really want to live on the run until we turn 21?"

Jonny sighed. "No, not really. But I'm not going to let him order me around to suit his own purposes until I'm 21 either." Jonny came back over and dropped down beside her again. Putting his arms around her, he drew her against his chest and laid his cheek against the top of her head. "So what are we going to do, Jess?"

"I don't know."

They sat there quietly for a long time in the slowly warming cave, allowing the quiet and privacy to leach away the hot emotions that drove them to this spot. Eventually, Jonny sat up and shed his coat, disposing of Jessie's at the same time. Settling back down into the chair, Jonny scrunched around until he found a comfortable, semi-reclined position. Jessie curled up beside him again and laid her head on his chest. Cuddling her, he finally asked, "How do you feel?"

She thought about it. "I . . . I don't really know. Hurt, I guess. I meant what I said to him, Jonny. I tried so very hard never to make him feel that I was trying to take you away. I know it's been hard for him, what with your mother dying and all . . ."

"You know, I loved my mother, too. But I'm starting to think that we cut him too damned much slack when it comes to Mom's death. He needs to just get over it. We all tiptoe around his feelings for her and try so hard not to upset him, and look what he does!" Jonny's voice was bitter. "All of my life he's harped on the idea that if I had a problem, I should always come to talk to him about it. There was _nothing_ we couldn't discuss like adults. But what does **he** do the first time I do something he really doesn't like? Does he come to talk to _me_ about it? Hell, no! He goes out and plays the all-powerful Benton Quest and makes a complete fool out of me. I sat there in Provost Brown's office spouting all of these wonderful, lofty ideals about how I would never trade on my father's power and influence, and the entire time Dr. Brown **knew** that was exactly what Dad had done to get me excluded. You should have seen his face, Jessie. I must have looked like a naive idiot."

Jessie levered herself up on an elbow to look down at him. "Jonny, he didn't do it deliberately. Your dad isn't like that. You know that. He . . . he's just . . . " she groped for the right word . . . "lost . . . right now."

"Are you saying he didn't know what he was doing?" Jonny laughed harshly. "No, Jess, he knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew exactly what he hoped to get out of it, too." Restlessly, he slid from her grasp and rose to begin pacing again. "I'm not his 'little boy' any more, no matter how desperately he wants to pigeonhole me into that role. The time has come for me make my own decisions, whether he likes it or not."

Jessie sighed, watching him pace. "I know. All I'm saying, Jonny, is that we shouldn't permanently condemn him because of this. He can't control the way he's feeling any more than we can."

Jonny stopped pacing and turned to look at her. "So you think we should forgive and forget? Go back to that house, apologize for losing our tempers and give in to what he wants? That would mean ending our relationship, being packed off to opposite ends of this country for four years, and being treated as though we were still ten years old."

"No," Jessie replied heavily, sitting up and crossing her legs. "I couldn't bear that."

"Neither could I."

"Then what do we do?" she asked helplessly.

Jonny stood in the middle of the cave for a long time, staring into empty space. Then he looked at her again and said slowly, "Do you remember what you said to me about what you would do if our parents tried to separate us?"

Jessie nodded, smiling a little at the memory, "Yeah . . . that I would follow you wherever you went and I'd make my own way, if I had to."

Dropping to his haunches beside her, Jonny cupped her cheek in his hand and rubbed it gently. "It looks like the shoe's on the other foot, love. And although you were the one who voiced it, I feel exactly the same way." His eyes grew serious and dark, "I won't be separated from you again. I'll follow you to the ends of the earth, if I have to . . . regardless of how my father feels about it." Jessie started to protest, but he placed a finger across her lips. "I'm not going to back away from this, Jess. He's always told me that every decision we make has repercussions and you should never do anything without giving it careful thought. He should have remembered that advice before he betrayed all the principles he's always claimed to believe in. Now it's his turn to live with the consequences."

Jessie sighed deeply and leaned her head against Jonny's chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. As he enveloped her in a fierce embrace, he heard her whisper sadly, "I think we'll _all_ be living with the consequences . . . for the rest of our lives."

He had no response for that.


	2. Part II

**

Part II

**

  


Race and Benton stared in horror at the empty doorway as Jonny's parting words echoed around the study. The silence was like a void and neither man seemed capable of breaking it. Finally, Race turned back to the other man, shaken.

"Dear God, Benton, what have you done?"

Benton stared back at him, still feeling stunned. Over the last several weeks, as he waited for his son to discover that he would not be able to attend the school of his choice, Benton had vacillated back and forth on his feelings about what he had set in motion. Unable to meet Race's fierce gaze, he turned and went to sit down behind his desk again. As he looked up, he saw the portrait of his wife and son that hung on the far wall. He looked away hastily; unable to stand looking at the likeness of two of the people he loved most in the entire world. Suddenly, he had the overpowering sense of being stared at. Forcing himself to look up, his eyes locked with those of his long-dead wife. Those eyes seemed alive as they stared back at him accusingly. He could almost hear her voice . . . _How could you, Benton?_ It seemed to demand. _What were you thinking???_

He tore his gaze away from the portrait. No, what he had done was right. He was just sure of it. Looking back at his companion, he said sharply, "I simply couldn't allow this to continue, Race! They are way too young. Separating them is the only answer."

"But for God's sake, Benton! To go behind his back and try to force him into it? You _know_ the way Jonny gets when he feels that someone he cares about is threatened . . . particularly Jessie!"

"I'm not threatening Jessie," Benton objected. "All I'm asking is that they back off for a few years . . ."

"And you didn't think Jonny would take that as a threat? Particularly with the tactic you used? You saw him . . . when was the last time you saw him _**that**_ furious?"

Benton still looked shaken. "I don't know that I've ever . . . "

"Yes, you have," Race replied grimly. "Think about it." Race nodded as he watched the older man's expression change.

"Cairo," Benton whispered hoarsely.

"Cairo," Race agreed. "I think we need to find that boy. He's disappeared once before under stress like this, and I wouldn't put it past him to do it again."

Both men ran from the study. When they reached the entryway, Benton paused, "Where would he go?" he asked Race.

"He was following Jessie. Let's try upstairs."

When they reached the second floor, they immediately spotted Estella leaning against the wall opposite Jessie's door. She looked seriously shaken. Striding up to her, Race caught her shoulders.

"Stel, what's wrong? What happened?"

She clutched at his arms, staring at the closed door. "He was so angry," she whispered.

"What did he do?" Race demanded sharply, staring to sound angry himself. That seemed to bring Estella back to awareness.

"Nothing," she replied hastily. "I was in front of the door when he got here and he bumped into me when he knocked for Jessie to let him in. It was . . . I just . . ." She faltered and then looked at her husband, in shock. "She told me to go away, Race! I've never heard her that way before . . ."

_Great,_ Race thought grimly. _They're drawing battle lines already!_ He was certain that if they didn't confront this now, before the two kids withdrew totally, things were only going to continue to worsen. Taking two strides, he knocked sharply on Jessie's door.

"Jessie, I need to talk with the two of you. Let me in." He paused, listening carefully. Nothing broke the silence on the other side of the door. After a moment, he knocked sharply again. "Jessie, open this door," he demanded. Still nothing.

"Is it locked?" Benton asked.

Race tried the knob. "Yes," he replied tersely.

"There's a bypass key, isn't there?"

"Yes. It's down in the lockbox in our suite."

"Race, I'm not sure that's a good idea," Estella protested, but Benton interrupted her.

"I'll get it," he said flatly and left at a run.

"Race . . ." Estella said warningly.

"We've got to talk with them, Stel."

"But not this way! If you break in on them like this, they'll never listen. Give them some time. Everyone is too upset . . ."

Estella could tell that her arguments were swaying her husband, but before she could convince him, Benton reappeared at the head of the stairs. "Here it is," he said breathlessly, trying to step up to the door. Race intercepted him, forcing the older man back a few steps.

"No, Benton, let me. We've got to move very carefully. We don't want to set both of them off again." Taking the key, he went back to the door and banged on it loudly again. _**"JESSICA!"**_ When there was no answer, he unlocked the door and opened it.

The wintry air washed over him the instant he stepped inside the room. "Jessica, where are . . . _**Shit!**_" He spotted the rope and the open window almost immediately. Crossing the room, he leaned out and peered down into the darkness. The rope smacked softly against the house in the wind. Other than that, there was no sign of movement anywhere.

"Where are they?" Benton demanded, striding into the room.

"It looks like they're gone," Race replied.

"Gone! Gone where?" Swiftly, Benton joined Race at the window. Over his head, Race's gaze locked with Estella's and they eyed each other bleakly. _She was right,_ Race thought to himself. _We pushed them . . . drove them to this._

Benton straightened abruptly and demanded, "IRIS, scan the surrounding grounds for Jonny and Jessie"

The response was a long time coming. "SENSORS INDICATE THAT JONNY QUEST AND JESSIE BANNON ARE NOT ON THE SURROUNDING GROUNDS."

"They'd make for the cars!" Benton said suddenly. Without another word, the three of them spun and sprinted for the staircase. Benton and Race reached it first and clamored down at breakneck speed. By the time Estella got halfway down, she could hear their breathless questions to Mrs. Evans and then frantic scrambling at the back door. The distinctive smacking sound of the loose end of the coat rack hitting the wall brought her to an abrupt halt. Common sense seemed to flood in and she froze. It was windy and cold outside . . . Jessie didn't have a coat in her room. Estella spun and crept softly back up the stairs. As she approached the bedroom door again, she heard whispered voices.

"What are you doing?" Jessie hissed. "We have to get out of here!" Estella stepped silently into the room and watched as the two young people peered at the computer screen on her daughter's desk.

"If we don't blind ourselves to IRIS, we won't get ten feet outside any door of this house. Hang on, I'm almost there . . . Got it! Come on, let's go . . . " They both spun . . . and came face-to-face with her.

"Going somewhere?" she asked quietly. Both of them were still angry, although the violent fury Jonny had exhibited earlier seemed to be in better control now.

"Out," Jonny replied stiffly.

"Out where?"

"Let us by, Mother," Jessie said, stepping forward. Estella saw that her daughter was angry too, but she could sense a difference in the undercurrent. The predominant emotion from Jonny seemed to be pure anger . . . a response to a threat. But with Jessie, there was something else. Hurt? Disillusionment? She wasn't quite sure what it was, but the two of them together were formidable. She knew she would have to let them go. Aside from being physically unable to prevent them if they were determined, she also saw that another confrontation with their fathers right now would only end in disaster.

"Not until I know where you're going."

"Mother . . ." Jessie said dangerously, but Jonny reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder.

"We don't know, Estella," Jonny said. _That is an honest answer,_ Estella thought. _He's trying._ "We just need to get out for a while. I can't face my father again . . . not yet. I . . . I need some time . . ."

Privately, Estella sighed in relief and eyed him for a long moment. He was trying to use his head. She nodded. "That's a good idea. Nothing should be done in anger." Thinking quickly, she continued, "I'll let you go, and I'll even cover for you with both of your fathers . . . at least for a while. But I want a promise in return."

"What?" Jonny asked suspiciously.

"You go out and calm down and then you come back home. You don't disappear. Will you do that?"

Jonny thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, you have our word . . ."

Estella crossed to him suddenly. _I love this boy,_ she thought silently to herself. _Just as much as Race does._ She could feel tears welling as she looked up at him. The thought of losing either one of them was all but unbearable. Reaching up, she laid a hand on his cheek. "Come back to us, Jonny. We can't lose you . . ."

He looked down at her with an inscrutable expression for a long moment and then reached up and squeezed her hand in seeming acknowledgement. "We'll come back," he promised again. Then catching Jessie's hand, the two of them slipped out, leaving her standing alone in the middle of Jessie's room.

  


* * * * *

  


Estella was sitting in the family room half an hour later when Race and Benton reappeared. Both looked worried and frustrated.

"IRIS, is there any sign of them?" Benton demanded, pacing the room restlessly.

"SENSORS SHOW NO SIGN OF EITHER JONNY QUEST OR JESSIE BANNON ANYWHERE ON THE GROUNDS."

"I just don't understand this," Race snarled in frustration. "They didn't have time to get off of the Compound grounds. They must be here someplace! Why can't IRIS locate them?" He spun around to Benton. "What about the trackers in their watches?"

Before Benton could answer, Estella held up her hand wordlessly. Dangling from one finger were the two Quest watches that Jonny and Jessie had worn since they were about ten. Both men stared at them in shaken silence. Finally Race said, "Where did you find them?"

"They were on the entryway table when I came downstairs," Estella replied quietly. She gazed from one to the other. "Are you both ready to calm down now and act your age?"

Benton snarled wordlessly and flung himself down in front of the nearby computer terminal. "There has to be a way to find them. They can't have gone far! **Why** isn't IRIS able to locate them? Even without the watches, she ought to be able to identify their movements on the grounds." He worked for a few minutes before uttering a surprised exclamation. Looking up at Race, he said bitterly, "They never left the house. The window was a decoy."

"How do you know?" Race demanded, coming to join Benton at the terminal.

"Because my son has put a lockout on IRIS that causes her sensors to be blind to his and Jessie's movements. Look at the time stamp. This was done almost immediately after that business in the study. It was a hasty job, like he didn't have much time. They were getting ready to run and knew that the instant we found them gone I would ask IRIS to trace them. So they slapped something into the system that gave them a window of opportunity." "When are the two of you going to stop and begin thinking with your heads again?" Estella demanded, the control on her temper slipping. "Do you really want them gone? If they're running it's because your actions are driving them to it! The longer you push them, the further they're going to run."

Race spun to his wife. "You _saw_ them," he accused.

She returned his angry gaze without flinching. "Yes. I saw them and I talked to them."

"Where are they?" Benton demanded, surging to his feet.

"I don't know. They wanted out for a while and I let them go."

"You _**what?**_" Benton said incredulously. "Even when you knew we wanted to talk with them?"

"_**Talk**_ with them?" she questioned sarcastically. "Is that what you call what you've been doing? Furthermore, do you honestly think I could have stopped them?" She reached out and grabbed Benton by the arm urgently. "Benton, think! You weren't talking . . . none of you were. You were furious . . . screaming at each other . . . and you were all saying things you didn't mean. For God's sake, he was trying to do exactly what you always taught him . . . back away until he could think clearly. He was right to get out. By the time I found the two of them, Jonny had calmed down a little and was _trying_ to think rationally. All he wanted was some space . . . an opportunity to calm down so that he could do something other than simply react."

"You don't have any idea where they went?" Race asked, calming down rapidly in the face of his wife's arguments.

"No. When I asked them, Jonny said he didn't know where they were going and I believed him. They just wanted _out_ for a while. I wasn't about to risk alienating them any further by trying to pin them down. I simply got their promise that wherever they went, they would come home again as soon as they had calmed down enough to be able to discuss the situation."

"And you think he will," Race said, seeking reassurance.

"They'll be back," she replied without hesitation. "Jonny promised me, and he doesn't lie."

"Then we'll wait," Race said flatly. "We won't search for them any longer."

"But . . ." Benton started to protest, but Race interrupted him.

"No, Benton. We give them the time they need. She's right. The more we push, the further they'll run. If Jonny promised Estella that the two of them would come back, then they will . . . unless we do something to drive them further away. And that's a risk we can't take right now."

"But . . ." he started to say again, but Race cut him off sharply.

"_No._ We wait. That's it."

By midnight, neither of the two young people had returned. At Estella's insistence, they left the family room and went to their respective bedrooms. Without even discussing it, they all left the family room light on for their missing family members.

Race and Estella watched as Benton dragged himself slowly up the stairs. His shoulders were slumped and he looked infinitely older than he had just hours before. When they heard the door to his bedroom close, they turned as one and walked silently to their own suite of rooms. It wasn't until the door to the outer corridor closed that either of them said anything.

"What was he thinking, Race?" Estella asked sadly, echoing her husband's earlier question. "What ever possessed him to do something like this?"

Race dropped onto the large sofa and sighed. "I have no idea. I tried to get him to talk to me about it, but he's just clammed up. I haven't seen him like this in years . . . not since the first weeks after Rachel died." He rubbed his eyes wearily. "He used to get that semi-crazed look back then, too."

"Was there anything you could do to make him see reason back then?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "He always seemed to need to work through it on his own."

Silence descended again and finally Estella sighed and held out her hand to Race. "This is getting us nowhere," she said. "Let's go to bed."

Race grunted as he stood up and caught her hand. Tugging at it, he pulled her into his arms and held her close. "Please tell me we aren't going to lose them over this, Stel." 

She tightened her arms around her husband fiercely. "We won't let that happen," she assured him with all the bravado she could muster. She just hoped she was right.

  


* * * * *

  


It was nearing 3:00 a.m. when a soft tapping at the corridor door drew Estella out of the netherworld of near sleep. She flung herself out of bed and ran for the door on bare feet, not even bothering to put a robe on over her nightgown. The light from the large picture hanging on the sitting room wall gave enough light for her to see Jonny standing in the doorway when she opened the door.

"We're back," he said to her softly. "Like we promised."

Estella nodded, unable to say anything because of the tears of relief that threatened to overwhelm her. After a minute, she cleared her throat and asked quietly, "Where's Jessie?"

She saw him tense just as she felt Race at her back. Sudden warmth surrounded her as he wrapped her robe around her shoulders. She looked up to see Race watching Jonny, but he didn't say a word and his face showed no hostility.

Jonny relaxed minutely, and after another moment, he replied. "She's upstairs. She's exhausted so I told her to go on up and that I would let you know we were here." He hesitated and then asked, "Are you okay, Estella? I . . . I didn't hurt you or anything, did I? When I shoved you, I mean. I didn't intend . . ."

"You didn't," she reassured him quickly as she felt Race's arm around her go rigid "You would never hurt me, no matter how angry you were. I know that."

Jonny sighed and closed his eyes in relief. She could almost feel the exhaustion radiating out of him. There was no trace of fury now. Stepping forward, she reached up and laid her hand against his cheek again. She stroked one blonde eyebrow with her thumb as she said softly, "You're tired, Jonny. Go to bed. Things will be better in the morning."

Jonny reached out and caught her in his arms suddenly. Curling his head down, he laid it on her shoulder and buried his face in her neck like a frightened child. She could feel the tremor pass through him as she held him close. "Will it, Estella? Will it ever be better again?" 

After a while, she loosened her hold. Catching his face in her hands, she kissed him gently on the forehead and then allowed him to straighten. "Go to bed, son. It's been a hard day." He nodded and then walked away in silence.

  


* * * * *

  


Breakfast the next morning was a strained affair. Race and Estella were the first ones up and were sitting at the dining room table when they heard a commotion upstairs. Abandoning their coffee, they made for the sound hastily. When they reached the top of the stairs, they found Benton standing outside the door to Jonny's room. It was obviously locked and Benton was banging on it loudly, trying to rouse his son.

"Jonny, open this door!" he demanded in a raised voice.

Race reached him a fraction of a second before Estella. Grabbing his arm, he dragged the other man back from the door. "Benton, stop it!" he said sharply. "Don't start this again. Come down to breakfast. They will come down when they're ready."

"I want to know where he was," Benton said harshly. "I won't have him . . ."

"It doesn't matter where they were," Estella told him, overriding his protests. "They came home and that's all that matters. Now come downstairs."

Between the two of them, they dragged him downstairs and settled him at the table. Handing him a cup of coffee, Race said urgently, "Benton, _listen_ to me. You simply can't jump Jonny every chance you get. You have got to sit down and talk with him about this like adults. Listen to what he has to say and try to find a solution that both of you can live with." He rapped sharply on the table. "Benton, are you listening to me? I know you're shaken by all of this, but you've got to use some sense. If you don't, it will . . ." He stopped abruptly as Jonny and Jessie walked in. They both disappeared into the kitchen but returned shortly carrying breakfast. Without a word, Jonny sat down and began eating his cereal. Jessie set her bowl on the table and then walked over to the sideboard to pour herself a cup of coffee. She waved the pot at Jonny.

"You want some?" she asked neutrally.

"No thanks," he replied.

"Dad? Mom? Dr. Quest?" Race and Estella both heard the fractional pause before the offer was made to Benton, but there was no sign in her face that the attempted pleasantry was difficult for her. Her parents both shook their heads and Benton replied civilly,

"No thank you, Jessie. I'm fine." Nodding she filled her cup and set the pot on the warmer. Returning to the table, she sat down next to Jonny and began eating her yogurt. As the silence stretched, Benton stirred restlessly. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, he said,

"The two of you were late getting in. Where did you go?" For a minute, Race wondered if either of them was going to answer.

"Out," Jonny finally replied in a voice totally devoid of any sort of emotion.

"Out where," his father persisted.

"Just out." The reply was delivered in a flat, emotionless tone that clearly said the subject should be dropped.

"All right," Benton said after a moment. "If you won't say where you went, then what did you do?"

"Talked," his son replied.

"About what?"

"Things."

"What things?"

Jonny raised his eyes from his cereal bowl and stared straight at his father. The rage of the night before was gone. In its place was a hard, cold implacability that Race had the feeling was going to be worse than the anger. "Things that are no longer any of your business," his son replied icily. Shoving his cereal bowl aside, he rose and turned away, saying, "We're leaving for school now."

"Jonathan Quest, don't you move!" His father's voice was like a lash, freezing Jonny on the spot. "Turn around," Benton commanded when his son showed no sign of doing anything other than standing with his back to him. Slowly, Jonny turned to face him. His face might as well have been carved from stone. "I am not going to apologize for what I did because it was done with only your best interests at heart. I understand that you believe that you truly love Jessie and that you want to be with her for the rest of your lives. But you are 18 years old and no matter how mature you feel, you are a long way from being able to make those kinds of choices. I am not asking you . . . I'm telling you. You're going to step back for a while and give yourselves some space. The separation won't kill you. If the way you feel about each other is as strong as you seem to think it is, it will weather it without a problem."

The silence in the room was profound when Benton finished. After a long moment, he said, "Well?"

"Are you finished now?" Jonny asked coldly.

"Yes," his father replied.

"Fine. Then I'm going to school."

"You _will_ be back?" Estella said quickly. The entreaty in her voice was clear.

Jonny turned to her and all of them saw the stone mask crack fractionally. His voice was warmer as he replied, "Yes, we'll be back. We aren't going anywhere." Turning, he looked down at his girlfriend. "Are you coming, Jess?"

She nodded. "Go on, I'll be right there. Would you get my books for me? They're on my desk." Jonny nodded and walked out without another word.

Setting her spoon down carefully on the table, she looked across at Benton. Her voice was pleading as she said, "Please, Dr. Quest, don't push him like that. I'm trying to talk to him. But when you treat him that way, he gets angry all over again . . ."

"Then it's up to you to make him see reason, Jessie," Benton urged her. "It's for your own good, and it's not really that much to ask, is it?"

Jessie rose from the table and turned to walk out. As she reached the door, she paused and looked back at him again. The pain and disillusionment were clear on her face as she said quietly, "I don't know, Dr. Quest. You tell me. You're the one who's had to live without Rachel for the last twelve years. You tell me how much it is to ask." Without another word, she turned and walked out, leaving Benton Quest staring after her like he'd just been slapped in the face.

  


* * * * *

  


Over the course of the next week, relations between Benton and his son grew steadily worse. Breakfast the morning after the confrontation had been only the first of several incidents. Some were similar to the breakfast interchange where Jonny stood silent and withdrawn, not responding in any way at all, and other times Benton seemed to touch some mysterious nerve that would trigger Jonny into verbal anger and the two of them would argue violently. After about a week of that, things quieted a little. Unfortunately, it was not a sign that the rift between the two was narrowing. Race and Estella tried to talk with all three of them several times but none of them were willing to listen.

It was the first week in April, with no end to the hostilities in sight, when Race finally broke down and did something Benton had expressly forbidden him to do. He called Hadji. The phone rang only twice before the eldest of Benton Quest's two sons picked up.

"Hello?" 

The sound of the familiar voice caused Race's throat to close up and he had to try twice before he managed to respond.

"Hadji . . . Hadji, it's Race."

"Race! It is good to hear from you. Kefira and I were just talking about calling home. How is everyone?" In the background, he could hear Kefira's warm contralto telling Hadji to say hello from her. The laughter and joy in their voices, so different from the atmosphere at the Compound, caused Race's heart to ache. He knew what telling Hadji about this situation would do to him, and it was the reason that Benton had forbidden anyone to say anything to him. But things had gotten so far out of hand that something had to be done. "Race?" This time there was a note of concern.

Taking a deep breath, Race said quietly, "I'm sorry, Hadji, but we've got a serious problem. We didn't want to bother you with it, but . . . "

"Tell me what is wrong," Hadji commanded.

Race described the events of the preceding weeks. Hadji listened in silence, allowing him to complete the narrative without interruption. Finally, he concluded with, "Estella and I are at our wits end. We don't know what to do any longer. Neither of them are talking to each other, both kids are distant, and I just have the feeling that sooner or later the situation is going to explode and then there will be absolutely no fixing it. Do you have _any_ suggestions?"

"Not immediately." Race could almost see him checking his watch. "It is 7:00 p.m. now. Allowing for half an hour to take care of some things here first, I should be on the road by no later than 7:45. Which will put me home by around 2:30."

"Wait! Hadji, you don't need . . ."

"2:30," the young man said in a voice that allowed for no arguments. Again, Race heard Kefira's voice in the background. "We will both be there."

It was 2:17 when IRIS' soft voice warned him that a car had turned off the main road onto the Compound access road. Confirming that it was one of the Quest vehicles, he told IRIS to open the main gate to allow them through. Rising carefully to keep from disturbing Estella, he pulled on a robe and went to meet the couple at the back door.

"I'm sorry to have to call you like this," he said to them after they had removed their coats. "Your father told me not to, but I didn't know what else to do."

"They are not talking at all?" Hadji asked.

"No," Race said with a shake of his head. Gesturing toward the hall, he said, "Let's go back to our suite. I'm afraid if we stay here in the kitchen it's liable to rouse the others."

Hadji nodded and the three of them moved toward the back of the house. At the foot of the stairs, Kefira stopped. Laying a hand on his arm, she looked at him questioningly. "Would you prefer that I go on upstairs, beloved?" she asked in a whisper. "I . . . I understand that this is family business . . ."

"You are family," he replied in a soft, firm voice. Catching her hand, he drew her with him as they followed Race into his quarters. They found Estella awake and waiting. Kefira went directly to her and hugged her firmly as Race gestured for Hadji to sit.

"How did this happen?" Hadji demanded. "What you have been telling me . . . this is not like Father or Jonny at all."

"I don't know," Race said helplessly. "Something happened . . . something _**must**_ have happened . . . to trigger it, but Benton won't say what. He just keeps insisting that Jonny and Jessie are too young to be . . ." He cleared his throat, squirming uncomfortably, before continuing, ". . . having sex . . . and that it is in their own best interests to be separated for a time. If you try to push any further, he just shuts down and walks away."

"But he _knows_ the way Jonny gets when that happens," Hadji protested. "How can he possibly believe that Jonny will tolerate it?"

"I don't know! I've _tried_ to reason with him, Hadji. I've tried to reason with both of them . . . but they just won't hear me!"

"What about Jonny and Jessie? What are they saying?"

"Not much," Estella replied, swallowing hard. The two women had sat down side-by-side on the sofa and Kefira squeezed the hand she still held encouragingly. "They are both still cordial with us, which is more than you can say for Benton."

Hadji shook his head. "I do not understand. Describe the way they are acting."

Race sighed. "They're both still pleasant with us. They'll talk about what went on in school that day, what they're planning in the way of outings with their friends. They were even talking about Bobby and Francesca the other day, and you know how Jonny tends to shy away from any discussion of Francesca." He shook his head. "But it's all superficial. They won't discuss what they're feeling, they absolutely will **not** talk about the situation with Benton, and they will literally walk away if we try to approach the subject of what their plans are after graduation. And as for their relations with Benton . . ." Race scrubbed at his face wearily. "Jonny is absolutely glacial around him. He goes out of his way to avoid being in the same room with your father, and when they are together, he won't say a word unless he has no other choice. And when Benton brings up the subject of Jessie or school . . . " Race finally just trailed off as though he was too tired to even continue. A soft sound of distress caused him to look up at Estella. Tears glistened on her eyelashes as she gazed back at him.

"They argue?" Kefira asked softly.

"No, not any more," Estella replied, reaching up to wipe her eyes. "At first, I thought nothing could be worse that hearing them screaming at each other, but I was wrong. Now it's a contest of wills, fought in silent anger. Every time Benton tries to bring up either of the two 'forbidden' subjects, Jonny just gives him this scathing look and then turns and walks away. Nothing Benton can say will stop him."

"What about Jessie? Is she reacting the same way?" Hadji asked.

Race shook his head. "No. She's at least civil with Benton. She'll talk to him. But not about this. When it first occurred, Benton tried to get Jessie to convince Jonny that they should back off. I never expected that she would . . . " He stumbled to a halt.

"She was hurt, Race," Estella jumped in swiftly. "She never would have said it otherwise."

Hadji looked from one of them to the other. "What did she say?"

Race was silent for a long moment. Finally, he sighed again and replied, "She threw Rachel in his face. Said that he, of all people, ought to know how much he was asking. It hit Benton like a sledgehammer." Race leaned over and put his head in his hands as though it hurt. "God, how did things get to be such a mess?"

The silence was heavy as they all considered that question. Finally, Kefira asked, "How is Dr. Quest treating Jessie now?"

"Better than I would have expected," Race replied, sitting up again. "It's as though he's shut his mind to what happened, pretending she never made the comment. And as long as Benton doesn't try to bring up the subject of their relationship or school, Jessie stays pleasant. She's distant . . . there's no real connection between them, but she's not cold and she doesn't seem to blame him in any way."

"To be honest, I've been a little surprised that she hasn't been more openly antagonistic," Estella commented. "Her loyalties have always lain so firmly with Jonny, and I've been expecting her to start blaming Benton for this whole mess. I asked her about it the other day. It's the only time I've gotten any real kind of an answer from her. She said that she understood that he was having a difficult time adjusting to the changes in his family and that she wouldn't complicate his life by causing him any more pain than she already had."

"I believe we can be grateful that she is taking that stand," Hadji said. "If she was openly angry at Father, I do not believe a solution would ever be possible." Hadji sighed. "I will try and talk with all of them tomorrow. Perhaps they will listen to me since I was not here when it all occurred."

"God, I hope so," Race said fervently. "We can't keep up this way."

  


* * * * *

  


The next morning Race was up at 6:00 a.m., as usual, but he saw no sign of activity downstairs. He followed his customary morning routine, scanning the previous night's security tapes, running down the day's research schedule, running the household computer diagnostics, and doing the routine household maintenance. By 10:30, he'd still seen no sign of any of the other family members, even though it was Friday and everybody had commitments of one kind or another. Finally, he went upstairs and knocked on Benton's bedroom door. The response was a long time in coming and when he finally opened the door, Race was seriously alarmed.

Benton was positively gray. Leaping forward, Race caught him, as he seemed to sag and supported him over to the bed.

"What is it?" Race demanded. "What's wrong?"

"Close the door," Benton responded, gesturing at it. Race strode over and closed it quickly. From there, he made straight for the telephone.

"I'll get Barbara Mason out here right away . . ." he started to say, but Benton cut him off.

"No!" He struggled into a sitting position on the bed. "No, Race, I'm alright. There's no need to bother Barbara."

"Benton, you aren't all right! You look awful."

The older man shook his head determinedly. "I'm just tired, that's all. A good night's sleep tonight will take care of it."

"Benton . . ."

"I said no, Race."

"Alright, if you won't let me call her, at least let me take you into her office."

"No. I'm fine, I tell you." Color was returning to his face as he glared up at the younger man. "And I thought I told you that you were not to call Hadji and put him in the middle of this mess! I had him at my door at 7:00 a.m. this morning, all upset over this business with Jonny. Damn it, Race, Hadji has more than enough to worry about already. He doesn't need this, too!"

Race planted his fists on his hips and glared down at the other man. "Well, I had to call someone! Neither you nor Jonny will listen to _**me**_, and things are out of control! Maybe Hadji can talk some sense into both of you."

"Damn it, Race, if the boy would just _listen_ . . ."

"Why should he listen, Benton? He's always followed your example and _you_ aren't listening, so why should he?"

"It's not the same thing!"

"Are you so sure about that?" Race asked.

Benton just snorted and stood up. "What did you want?" he asked in a short, angry tone.

"What?"

"You came up here for something. What did you want?"

Race eyed his old friend resignedly, recognizing the all the signs. Benton was angry with him and there'd be no reasoning with him now. With an inward sigh, he replied, "It's almost 11:00. You've got a conference call scheduled with the Oxford publication committee at 11:30 to discuss juried reviews of the articles for the next journal release. Are you still planning on doing it?"

Benton rubbed his forehead, as though trying to clear his head. "Damn. I'd forgotten about that. Yes, I have to. It's already been postponed twice and if we put it off again, we'll miss the publication deadline. I'll get dressed and be right down." As Race started to turn away, Benton stopped him. "Do me a favor, would you?"

"Sure."

"Get me three aspirins, a glass of water, and a very large pot of black coffee. I've got a headache that could crack Mt. Rushmore."

"I wish you'd let Barbara take a look at you. You really don't look well, Benton."

"I'm all right, Race. This business with Jonny is just getting me down, that's all."

"I know."

"I'm sorry I snapped. I know you were only trying to help."

"Forget it."

Benton rubbed his forehead again. "Things will work out . . . won't they?"

Race paused fractionally. "Sure," he replied at last. Then he turned and headed swiftly for the door. "I'll get you that aspirin." And he was gone.

The lack of conviction that was clear in the response left the air silent and heavy in his wake. Benton sank back down onto the bed and wearily dropped his head into his hands.

"Oh, God . . . what have I done?"

  


* * * * *

  


It wasn't until mid-afternoon that Race had the chance to draw Hadji aside and talk with him again. The results were discouraging. 

"Nothing?" Race said in frustration after Hadji reported his lack of success.

"No," Hadji replied with a sigh, leaning back into the sofa wearily. "Father just kept saying that I shouldn't worry about it . . . that he and Jonny would work it out. And _that_ was forthcoming compared to what I got out of Jonny!"

"What about school? The deadlines for replying to offers of admission are due very soon. Did he give you any indication of what he's planning?"

Hadji shook his head. "No. He simply would not say. Kefira could get nothing more out of Jessie, either." Both men looked up as the door to the Bannon suite opened and Estella and Kefira entered. Kefira went directly to Hadji and settled down beside him, while Estella perched on the arm of Race's chair. "But I think they are planning something," Hadji continued. "They seem very sure of themselves." Hadji shifted uneasily. "They have changed, Race. It is very difficult to explain how, but there is a difference."

"You mean besides being extremely secretive?" Race said, somewhat bitterly.

"The secrecy is simply a by-product of the situation they are in," Hadji replied. "No, I mean they have _changed_." He stared off into space, trying to explain the differences he sensed. "They seem older and more focused somehow. And the lightheartedness that was always so much a part of Jonny's character is missing. I do not believe I have seen him smile once since I have returned home."

"No," Race agreed. "He doesn't smile much any more. Neither does Jessie, really. She makes the effort, but it never reaches her eyes." He sighed painfully. He just hated this. He suddenly thought of the incident in Benton's room that morning. He hesitated, on the brink of telling Hadji about it, but then reconsidered. Benton was right. Hadji had enough to deal with. He didn't need to be worrying about his father's health, too . . . particularly when Race couldn't be absolutely certain there was anything wrong. "So what do we do?"

"I do not know. The only thing I can think to try is to get things back to some form of normalcy. We still have the party that was postponed at Christmas scheduled for the 16th of the month. I said something about it to Jonny and he said he was planning to cancel. I really think we need to go ahead with it. He and Jessie have isolated themselves, even from our friends. I talked to both Matt and Bobby Evans today and both of them say they have not seen either of them in weeks, other than in passing at school."

"I hadn't realized that," Race said with concern.

Hadji nodded. "I think it would be wise to see if we can draw them out a bit . . . get them to socialize again. Matt has already called Jonny and convinced him that the group of us should go out tonight. He told Jonny that he had heard that Kefira and I are home for the weekend and suggested that we all go out for pizza."

"That's good," Race agreed immediately.

"I am not going to bring up the subject of his estrangement from Father again while Kefira and I are here," Hadji warned. "I have spoken with him about it and he knows that I am concerned. Father is pushing him hard enough, and I do not want to risk alienating him. Sooner or later, he will need someone to talk with, and I want him to feel that I am available when that time comes."

Race nodded. "I understand."

"I am very grateful to you and Estella," Hadji said quietly. "I know that you feel shut out from them, but that is not entirely true. Both of them are hurting a great deal, and the only adults they are relating to at all are the two of you."

Race sighed. "Estella was the only one of us that actually kept her head the day this all blew up. Jonny and Jessie wouldn't be here now if she hadn't stood up to both Benton and I and got us to ease off."

"I know. Jonny told me about Estella finding them in Jessie's room when they were getting ready to run." He turned to Estella and smiled at her gratefully. "It meant a great deal to him that you treated him as an adult."

She nodded in acknowledgement, as Race's brow creased worriedly. "I just wish I knew where they go when they disappear. It bothers me that they can vanish so quickly and so totally. If something should happen to them when they're missing like that . . ."

"I know where they go," Hadji said quietly. "They are safe enough. Allow them to have their retreat, Race. Right now, they really do need it."

Finally, Race nodded. "Alright. If you know where they go, then I'll leave it alone. As long as someone knows how to find them if the need arises." Race looked at the eldest of Benton Quest's sons soberly. Of the two, Hadji had always been more introspective . . . the intuitive one. After a moment's hesitation, Race asked, "Hadji, do you have _any_ idea what's behind all of this? This is so incredibly out of character for both of them. I just don't understand any of it."

Hadji contemplated the question. "It is not so out of character for Jonny," he pointed out finally. "He is reacting exactly as he has always done when Jessie is threatened. He is being fiercely protective. The only thing that makes it different this time is that he is protecting their _relationship_ rather than it being in defense of her physical well-being."

"But it's not like him to be so secretive," Race protested. "Or so distant. It's not like either one of them!"

"How else should they be, Race?" Kefira asked quietly. They all turned to stare at her and she returned their looks calmly. "You expect the two of them to treat you the way they always have in the past, and you are bewildered because they do not. What you must remember is that this has seriously undermined their faith in the people they have always held in the highest of respect. They do not ,_trust_ you any longer . . . particularly Dr. Quest." She looked at Race and Estella levelly. "Jonny is much more distrustful of all three of you than Jessie is. She is still prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt . . . at least up to a certain point. There seems to be a reason for that, but I have been unable to determine what it is. As for Jonny," she glanced at Estella quickly, "he trusts you, Estella, more than he does Race or his father. I believe Hadji is right . . . this is a result of the way you treated him back in March when this first began. And I do not believe he has any _particular_problem with you, Race. However, for most of Jonny's life, you have been his father's closest friend, confidant, and substitute authority figure. He simply cannot disassociate the two of you. Therefore, because he has such a strong distrust of his father right now, he also has no choice but to distrust you, as well. I think _that_ is the source of the secrecy."

Hadji nodded firmly. "I agree completely. Unfortunately, I believe it does mean that until we can find a way to rebuild that trust between Jonny and Father, the two of you will continue to be 'left out in the cold'."

Race sighed. "Okay, I'll buy that. It makes sense. And I certainly didn't help matters any by initially seeming to back Benton in his actions the night Jonny confronted him. But that still doesn't explain whatever possessed Benton to have Jonny's admission pulled in the first place. _**That**_ is what I really don't get." He sat back in his chair, running an agitated hand through his short, white hair. "It's just not like Benton to do something as underhanded as this to Jonny. Why, Hadji," he asked the young man beseechingly. "Why would he do this?"

Hadji just shook his head. "I do not know."

The silence that followed that statement was heavy. Finally, Kefira said hesitantly, "Perhaps . . ." They all focused on her sharply and her voice trailed off under their intent gazes.

"Go on," Race encouraged her anxiously. "What is it?"

"Yes, my love," Hadji said, taking her hand. "What have you seen that we have missed?"

Kefira shook her head slowly. "No, it is nothing that I have seen, but more a . . . a differing perspective on the situation, perhaps."

"Go on," Race said again, leaning forward intently.

Kefira took a deep breath and then said slowly, "The four of you . . . Dr. Quest, Race, Jonny and Hadji . . . have always been incredibly close. Am I correct about that?"

Hadji nodded and Race replied, "Yes. Always."

"Has there been a difference in that closeness between individuals?"

"No," Race replied.

"Yes," Hadji said at exactly the same instant. The two of them stared at each other, startled.

"What do you mean, 'yes'?" Race demanded.

"There was always a difference between Father's interaction with Jonny and his with me," Hadji replied.

"No, there wasn't," Race protested.

"Yes, there was," Hadji insisted. "Father always tended to keep Jonny closer then he did me. He was more defensive of him and always watched him more closely."

"He didn't, Hadji!" Race replied strongly. Then he modified it slightly. "At least not due to any difference in the amount of love he had for the two of you. If he did that at all, it was only because Jonny was more of a daredevil and more prone to getting into trouble than you were, so he watched Jonny more closely. We could trust your common sense where we couldn't always do that with Jonny." Race spread his hands in a semi-shrug. "Jessie was the same way. We had to watch her more closely, too."

Hadji leaned forward, speaking earnestly, "Race, do not think I felt slighted or got the feeling I was any less loved because of the difference. I did not. I never doubted that Father loved me. But that does not change the fact that he _was_ more intense in the focus that he turned on Jonny . . . whether any of you realized it or not."

Race started to protest again, but Kefira interrupted. "And perhaps that is significant." She looked at the others solemnly. "I have watched and listened to all of you. You are all very distressed and you are all asking 'why' of each other. Let me ask you something else . . . _what_?"

"I don't understand," Race said.

"Neither do I," Hadji agreed.

"I think I see," Estella said softly, her eyes glittering with the stirrings of understanding. "It's the wrong question, isn't it," she said softly. "Not 'why is he doing this to Jonny,' but rather, 'what is _causing_ him to do this to Jonny'."

"It's the same question," Race protested irritability.

"No, it is not," Kefira said, shaking her head. "The 'why' question implies that the source of the problem lies with Jonny or with the interaction between Jonny and his father. The 'what' question tries to determine what it is about _**Dr. Quest**_ that is driving this situation."

"You're implying that this goes deeper than just a father's distress over the life choices his son is making," Race said slowly.

"I have two brothers and two sisters," Kefira said. "I grew up watching my father interacting with my siblings . . . watched him arguing with Sumant about the decisions he made that drew him further and further away from the family business . . . watched him finally come to realize that his eldest son would never have an interest in those things that gave him reason to look forward to each new day . . . watched him turn his focus to my younger brother, even though Srinivasan was way too young to have any idea what Father was talking about . . . and watched him as he opened his eyes and finally saw _me_ as something other than his middle daughter that liked to spend time with him and who got under his feet. And in all of those interactions, my father was driven much less by his concern for us as he was driven by his own personal goals and aspirations." Kefira shook her head at the looks she received. "It is _not_ self-centered." She pointed at Race and Estella. "Don't all parents have hopes and goals for their children? Don't you work to provide the best for them . . . education, healthcare, home environment . . . and work toward those goals?" She pointed at Estella. "Be honest . . . wasn't there a time when you had visions of what Jessie would be when she grew up? Perhaps even hoping that she would follow in your footsteps?"

Estella nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes, I did."

Beside her, Race nodded, but then added, "But that's a lot different than trying to force a child who is almost grown into doing something against their will."

"Yes, it is," she agreed, "but the root cause may be the same, particularly if something else is serving as a motivating factor."

"You think Benton's break with Rachel's memory at Christmas set this up," Estella said flatly.

"I think that Dr. Quest has struggled since that day," Kefira affirmed softly. "He was already severely stressed. Think about it," she urged them. "Think about all the things he has been through in the last six months. His family . . . those people he surrounds himself with that he truly cares about . . . are his emotional foundation. And in the last six months, he has faced the possible permanent loss of almost all of you. In at least one case, he went for a prolonged period of time thinking that Jonny actually _**was**_ dead. Hadji has told me how devastating that was for him. Then Jonny had that episode at Christmas and Dr. Quest was forced to reassess his continued attachment to his wife's memory, finally putting her 'ghost' to rest. But what did that cost him? Especially in light of everything that happened immediately previous to this monumental decision?"

"I can buy that, but where does it get us?" Race asked in frustration. "Does it bring us any closer to a solution to the current situation?"

Hadji shook his head slowly. "I do not know. If Kefira is right, I think that perhaps Father needs to seek help to resolve his issues. But how do we tell him that?"

"Very cautiously," Estella said with a grimace. "He's incredibly touchy right now and we don't dare push him too hard."

"You've got that right," Race said. "He damned near took my head off this morning over calling you, Hadji. He's just too wrapped up and defensive to be thinking rationally."

"Well, if we cannot approach Father, I suppose we must continue to try to reason with Jonny and Jessie." Glancing at his watch, Hadji sighed and rose. "Kefira and I need to go. We will be leaving to meet Matt and Bobby very soon and I want to change clothes before we go out." Obediently, Kefira rose to stand beside him. "I do not think you should expect us in very early. We are going to try to get Jonny and Jessie to relax tonight. If we can accomplish that, perhaps they will be more willing to talk with us about what they are planning."

"Alright. We'll plan to see you in the morning then." After the young couple disappeared into the hallway, Race turned to his wife. "Do you think Hadji's right, Stel?" She gestured for him to join her and he moved to sit next to her on the couch. 

"About Benton needing professional help?" she queried, as he put his arm around her shoulders. He nodded and she snuggled down into the crook of his arm. "I don't know, Race." She sighed wearily. "I just don't know . . . "

  


* * * * *

  


The next day Hadji reported that they all had a good time. Unfortunately, the opportunity to get out of the strained atmosphere and relax didn't accomplish what Hadji had hoped. Jonny still refused to discuss his future plans with his brother. By the time Hadji and Kefira had to leave to return to New York, things were much the same. One positive thing did come out of the weekend. The plans for the belated Christmas party would continue. Initially, Jonny had not wanted to bother, but Hadji convinced him that it would be a disappointment to their friends if they didn't hold it as planned. Then, they had encountered an unexpected problem when Benton declared sullenly that he wouldn't allow it. Thankfully, _that_ declaration had not been made in Jonny and Jessie's presence, and Hadji had been able to convince his father to change his mind.

Mid-April came and the long postponed party was finally held. The crowd was huge and for the first time in ages both Jonny and Jessie appeared to relax. Both of them laughed and joked with their guests and Benton mingled easily with the young people. The only incident that marred the evening was a tense few minutes with Admiral Bennett, who had shown up to see Benton. But the continuing strain was taking its toll on all of them. Benton continued to look exhausted and his enthusiasm for work was failing. Jonny had fallen largely silent and Jessie had mentioned to her mother he sometimes had trouble eating. For her part, Jessie had a haunted looked about her and Race had caught her several times observing Benton with a deep look of longing. Even Hadji, the most even-tempered of them all, had become angry when Admiral Bennett tried to question him about the unrest being reported from Bangalore.

Nor were he and Estella immune. Race knew his temper was developing a shorter and shorter fuse, and several times he caught himself yelling at Estella for no good reason. And where she would normally have turned on him in anger at such an incident, now she was just as likely to dissolve into tears and run from him instead. He'd also found her sick and shaking in their bathroom more than once. He knew that none of them would be able to continue under these conditions for much longer.

Race's initial fear that Jonny and Jessie would finally get their fill of the situation and simply vanish slowly died away as the days passed and neither of them showed any signs of leaving. They both continued to disappear periodically, but never for more than a day at a time, and rarely both at the same time. He became more and more certain that Hadji was right . . . they were planning something. Race didn't know what it was, but he got the feeling that when he found out, he wouldn't like it much.

  


* * * * *

  


"We have an announcement," Jessie said quietly at the breakfast table on a beautiful mid-May morning about four weeks later. They were all there. High school commencement had been held two days before and Hadji and Kefira had returned for the event. Benton had hosted a graduation party for the two of them in Rockport the next day and a large crowd had gathered for it. Race had overheard snatches of conversation throughout the event . . . discussions of what was next for each of the graduates. During it all, not one word was mentioned about Jonny and Jessie's intentions. But here it came. Race knew it with a certainty that twisted his gut into knots.

"So you're finally going to let us in on the secret?" Benton asked sourly.

_Don't do this, Benton,_ Race begged silently. _Don't antagonize them now. You have too much to lose . . ._

Jessie continued as though Benton hadn't spoken. "I've been admitted to M.I.T. and I'll be starting in the fall." She took a deep breath. "But I'm leaving this week."

Race stared at her, stunned. "This week? But . . ."

She gave her father an open, level look. "Yes. I'm going to spend the summer working in Boston." Her look completed the sentence. _And I want out of this house._

"What are you going to do about a place to live?" her mother questioned.

"I've already found a two bedroom apartment in a good neighborhood. It's furnished, so there won't be that to worry about. The furniture isn't what I would have chosen, but it will do. It's also ready for occupancy so moving in this week won't be a problem. The deposits are paid, the utilities have been turned on, and the lease is already signed, so I think everything is set."

Race cleared his throat. "What about the rent? Being in the city, it's bound to be high."

"Rent isn't a problem," Jonny replied evenly. "I've already found a job. I'll be doing programming and webpage design for a large tech firm in the city. The salary is almost obscenely high, and it's full time so it comes with bonuses, profit-sharing and a full benefits package. I've even confirmed that they don't make a distinction between wives and significant others as long as they are listed as a dependent with the company, so I'll be able to cover Jess under my benefits package without a problem. I've signed all the papers and been through the official orientation. I start full time next Monday." The sound of Benton's coffee cup hitting the table echoed in the dead silence.

Finally, Hadji said carefully, "It sounds like a wonderful opportunity. How did you locate the position?"

Jonny shrugged. "I called a number of people I've met over the years, and let them know that I was in the market for work in the Boston area. It just so happens that one of them works as an occasional consultant for this company and knew about the position. He spoke to them about me and got them to agree to at least talk to me. The day I was there for the interview, they had a systems crash and I offered to help them try to find the problem. I explained that the system they use is one that we did most of the early development work on several years ago, so I was already familiar with the code. They were desperate, so they agreed to let me try. I was able to access some of the old diagnostic routines that we'd left in from the beta development work and using those, it didn't take long to discover that one of their programmers had been modifying some of the base operating code and had screwed it up. Luckily, it was an easy fix, and I must have made an impression because they called and offered me the job the next day." He shot a hard look at Benton, who was staring at him numbly. "I also made certain that they understood that my father would probably _not_ be in favor of my taking the position and that they might be subjected to some pressure to withdraw the offer. They told me that they appreciated the warning and would see to it that their corporation officers were aware of the situation so they could be ready if that pressure was brought to bear."

After a moment, Benton sputtered, "But . . . but . . . what about school? Surely, you aren't . . ."

"I'm not planning on attending school," Jonny told his father flatly. "I probably will eventually, but as you pointed out to me so eloquently not too long ago, I'm young and I've got my whole life ahead of me. I see no point in being in any hurry." Jonny stood abruptly. "Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to go up and start packing. Matt and Mike are supposed to be here tomorrow around 1:00 to help Jess and I start loading a truck with our things. We should be finished by tomorrow evening or the day after, and then we'll be out from under your feet." Turning, Jonny strode out of the dining room with Jessie at his heels. Hadji looked from Jonny's retreating back to his father's face. Then, without another word, he and Kefira rose and hurried out after the pair.

Pale and shaken, Benton sat staring after them for a long time. Finally, he raised his eyes and looked at Race.

"They can't do this," he whispered hoarsely.

"Unfortunately, they can," Race replied, trying to keep his voice even. "And they have. I tried to warn you, Benton. I told you that you didn't want to alienate Jonny over his relationship with Jess. Those two are 18 going on 80, and they become like a concrete wall when they get their backs up. Haven't the last couple of months taught you that yet? You've seen it before. What's more, unlike most kids their age, they are more than capable of making an outstanding living on their own . . . school or no school."

Benton opened his mouth to reply, but Race cut him off, growing angrier by the minute.

"You want to know the hard truth? Those two don't _need_ us any longer. They haven't for a long time, now. What kept them here was their love for us and the other members of this family. If you don't get down off of your high horse pretty damned soon and try to make peace with that boy, you're going to lose your son for good. And there's a damned good chance I'm going to lose my daughter right along with him!"

"I was only trying to look out for his best interests!"

"Bullshit!" Race said fiercely, totally losing his hold on his temper. Estella laid a hand on his arm, trying to calm him, but the frustration and tension of the prior months finally got the better of him. "It's time you face up to the truth, Benton Quest. This entire situation has nothing to do with Jonny. It has to do with **you**. I watched you finally let go of Rachel at Christmas, and I was glad to see it. It was time . . . long past time. Unfortunately, rather than learning to cope on your own, you transferred your emotional anchorage to Rachel's son. So when you were faced with the evidence that Jonny was growing up a whole lot faster than you were ready for, you tried throwing up every conceivable roadblock you could think of. And all it did was drive a wedge between the two of you. For God's sake, Benton, he's getting ready to walk out of this house! Can't you understand that it might be for the very last time? If you let him get away without trying to mend the rift between the two of you, you may never see him again. Is that really what you want???"

Benton rose from the table and strode out of the room without saying a word. Race dropped his head into his hands and sat motionless, making no move to try to follow.


	3. Part III

**

Part III

**

  


"Oh God, Barbara, I've made such a mess of things," Benton said. He sat in Barbara Mason's office in downtown Rockport looking exhausted and shattered. His eyes were closed as he leaned his head up against the wall, and the tracks of his recent tears were still visible. "I'm losing my son! What am I going to do?"

The dark-haired woman sitting beside him on the sofa caught his hand and squeezed it gently. She had been a local physician in the Rockport area since before Benton Quest and his family had come to live on this coast, and she never remembered seeing him this strained and demoralized. Her dark brown eyes were compassionate as she advised him, "The first thing you are going to do is to calm down. You can't do anything when you are this agitated. The next thing you are going to do is let me take a good, close look at you. You don't look well, Benton, and I'm going to see if I can find out if there's a physical cause or if it's just stress. _Then,_ you are going to take the pills that I'm going to give you, and you're going to lie down on that sofa and get some sleep. You need rest. While you're doing that," she said, cutting him off before he could protest, "I'm going to talk with the rest of your family and get their versions of this entire story. Then we'll see what needs to be done next." She shook her head at his dazed, uncomprehending look. "Why didn't you come to me sooner? All of you are way too involved to be thinking clearly. We'll take it one step at a time. Let me see if I can't calm things down a bit so that all of you can sit down and talk rationally, okay?"

"Okay," Benton agreed, too exhausted to argue.

"You stay here for just a minute and then my nurse will be in to take some vitals, draw blood for some lab work, and to give you those meds. **Take them,** you hear me?" Benton nodded. "Alright, I'll be back in just a few minutes."

Closing the door behind her, she gestured to her nurse, gave her some quick instructions, and then strode out into her waiting room looking for the person she knew would be there. She frowned when she found it empty, but a flash of movement out near the street drew her to the door. With a sigh, she opened it and walked out to Race's red sports car where Estella stood waiting.

"How is he?" she asked without preamble.

"A mess," Barbara replied. "I expected Race."

"He's not in a whole lot better shape than Benton right now."

"Have the two of them been arguing, too?"

Estella shook her head. "Not really. They haven't agreed about the whole thing, but they're still talking. That's more than you can say for Jonny and Jessie. He told you about their little bombshell at breakfast, I take it," she added in a slightly bitter tone.

"Yes. Look, Estella, I may live to regret this but I'm going to put myself squarely in the middle of this mess. You need someone from the outside who can talk reasonably with everyone concerned, and knowing how sensitive you are about strangers learning what goes on in your family, I think that I'm the best candidate. Benton's already confided in me, and I've got a good rapport with Jonny and Jessie. They know I have no vested interest in whatever they decide to do, so I think I can get them to open up to me. We've got to get the three of them talking again or things will never get resolved."

Estella nodded wearily. "I know. We've tried. But none of them will listen to Race or I."

"Because you're too close to this. That's why I'm going to step in. You need an outside party."

"Alright. What do you want me to do?"

"I want to talk with each of you independently. And it's particularly important that when I talk with Jonny and Jessie it's on neutral ground. Can you get them to meet me? They can pick the place, just as long as it isn't at the Compound."

"Yes. Once way or the other, I'll get them there." She nodded toward the office. "Barbara, is he alright? He looks terrible."

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out. One thing's certain, he needs sleep, and I'm going to see that he gets some. I've given him something that's going to knock him out for a while. You go on. He'll be alright here for now."

"Good," Estella replied. "I'll call you and let you know where. When?"

"The sooner the better."

"I'm on it."

  


* * * * *

  


Benton was stretched out on the sofa in her office when Barbara returned. A pillow and a blanket from one of the examination rooms had been provided in an effort to make him more comfortable, and Barbara saw his shoes sitting off to one side, near the wall. She knelt down near his head and looked at him closely. Drowsiness marked his face, and his eyes were a bit glassy as he rolled his head and looked at her. She smiled at him gently.

"Feeling better?"

"A little," he agreed, his voice slightly blurred. "I feel like I'm floating."

She nodded. "That's the meds. Don't fight them. Just relax and let yourself sleep."

"I really should go home," he protested weakly. "I need to talk to Jonny."

"No," Barbara said gently. "Let me talk to him first. After you've gotten some rest, you'll be more prepared to find a way to work this out. You can talk to him tomorrow."

"But he may be gone by tomorrow!" Benton exclaimed, rousing slightly from his lethargy. After a moment, he struggled to sit up. "I can't let him leave without trying to fix this."

Barbara caught his shoulders and pressed him back down onto the sofa. "No. He won't leave before the two of you have a chance to talk one more time. I promise you. Now I want you to rest and leave this to me for a while."

Defeated, he stopped fighting and relaxed back into the sofa again, his eyes closing in exhaustion. Barbara knelt beside him, watching him carefully for a long time. Just as she thought he had finally fallen asleep, he spoke again.

"I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"For involving you in this. I know I'm being a nuisance."

Barbara's lips twisted in a sad smile. With feather-light fingertips, she stroked the graying hair at his temple. "You are never a nuisance," she whispered to him, but he didn't hear her. He'd fallen asleep.

  


* * * * *

  


It was about an hour and a half later that she paused on the threshold of the Rockport pizza parlor and scanned the room. She spotted Jonny and Jessie sitting in a booth in the far corner of the room. They sat side by side, leaving her the opposite side of the table. Both of them looked tense. Taking a deep breath, she crossed the room and slid in across from the two teenagers.

"Thank you for coming," she said.

Both of them eyed her warily without smiling. Jessie was the first to speak.

"Mom said you wanted to talk to us."

"Yes, I do," Barbara agreed quietly. "And I suspect you know why."

"It's none of your business," Jonny said harshly. He turned to the girl beside him and pushed at her shoulder. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"No, Jonny. She went to a lot of trouble to get us here. Let's at least hear what she has to say," Jessie replied, refusing to move. As the young woman gazed across the table at her, the significance of their positions suddenly dawned on Barbara. Jonny sat on the inside of the booth, against the wall, and Jessie sat on the aisle side, trapping him. Barbara's eyes locked on the younger woman's and in them she saw pain mixed with hope. Silently, Barbara breathed a sigh of relief. Jessie Bannon was not permanently alienated. She wanted this resolved, too. That meant that if Barbara moved very carefully, she had an ally. Reaching across the table, she laid a placating hand on Jonny's arm.

"Jonny, please. I'm not here to judge anyone or to defend your father or his actions. All I want to do is to listen to what you have to say."

"Why?" he demanded belligerently. "What difference does it make? He's right and that's all there is to it."

Barbara sighed softly, then shook her head. "You are all too close to this. You've been hurt and scared and threatened . . ." She saw Jonny take a breath, preparing to say something, but before he had the chance she cut him off. " . . . _**all**_ of you have been. You, Jessie, Benton, Race . . . you were all so close that not one of you escaped the backlash of this situation." She reached out and caught his hand in a firm grip. "I've known you ever since you came to live on this coast as a little boy. I've watched you grow up, and you are **all** very special to me. The ties . . . the love . . . that bound all of you together were so clear that others set your family up as an example of what it was possible to achieve if you cared about each other. Do you really want to lose that? Forever?"

Jonny stared down at their clasped hands and Barbara could feel the shudder that ran through the young man. Beside him, Jessie grasped his other arm tightly and laid her head on his shoulder in wordless entreaty. Finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, he replied, "No." When he looked up again, all the barriers were down and his feelings showed clearly. Barbara was forced to close her eyes against the sight of the misery reflected in his face. "There's no point in going over what happened," he said hoarsely. "You wouldn't be here if he hadn't already told you about it."

"I know what **he** thinks happened. I want to hear it from your point of view. It may be very, very different." She looked at the couple soberly and then continued. "I'm going to ask you to do something that's going to be very difficult, I think, but it's important and I hope you'll trust me enough to agree."

"What do you want?" Jonny asked.

"I want to talk to both of you, but I want to do it separately." She saw alarm and anger flare in Jonny's eyes, and she squeezed his hand again urgently. "Jonny, I'm not asking you to do this because I side with your father in any way. I told you, I'm not here to takes sides or pass judgments. What I want . . . what I _**need**_ . . . is to understand exactly what happened and how all of you are feeling. Do you remember the game you used to play as a child? The one where a group of you stood in a circle and one person whispered a phrase to the person beside him and that person passed it on until it got back to the child that started it? Do you remember how much the phrase used to change?" Both young people nodded hesitantly. "That's because all of us bring our own perspectives and experiences to things, and it causes us to interpret things differently. I want to hear what happened the way each of you saw it. And to do that, I need for you to be able to be totally honest with me. If the two of you talk to me together, you're both going to edit, whether you realize you're doing it or not, and that won't do any of us any good. I swear to you, I won't take a side. If I have a personal opinion, you'll never know what it is, nor will your parents. I have only one goal here, and that's to try to find a way to help you and your father rebuild your relationship."

Jonny and Jessie exchanged a long look. Some sort of wordless conversation seemed to flow between them and when they turned back to her, she saw acceptance.

"Alright," Jonny agreed. "What do you want us to do?"

"I'd like to start with you, Jonny. Let's go for a walk. We'll go down to the harbor. Jessie," she turned to the young woman, "give us an hour and then meet us down in the harbor park at the marina. At that point, I'll ask that Jonny go on back to the Compound and you and I will talk. I can take you back there once we're done. That will give me a chance to talk to your mother and father. What about Hadji and Kefira? Do I need to talk with them, too?"

Jonny shrugged. "They weren't involved. They did come home at one point, but Jess and I haven't really talked to them. I don't know about Dad."

Barbara nodded. "I'll speak to them. They may not have much to add, but it won't hurt. Once I've done that, I'll talk to your father again and then we can decide what needs to be done next."

"Where is Dad?" Jonny asked her. Something about the way he asked caused her to look at him closely.

"He's at my office. Why?"

Jonny hesitated. "Did he seem . . . okay . . . to you?"

"He was upset . . ."

"That's not what I meant."

"What is it, Jonny? Say what you mean."

"I don't know," the young man answered, his frustration showing. "I can't . . . he just doesn't look right, somehow. I don't think . . . I can't explain it!"

Barbara patted his arm consolingly. "Don't worry," she reassured him. "My nurse is with him and he was sleeping when I left. He'll be fine." Privately, she was seriously concerned. For Jonny to have noted a problem with his father, even with them being as estranged as they had been over the last several months, made her extremely uneasy. "If it will make you feel better, I've already ordered some tests and I'll do a complete physical on him while I have him nailed to the floor."

Jonny nodded, looking relieved. "Yeah, it would."

"Done!" she said, smiling at him. "Come on, let's go for our walk."

Leaving Jessie at the table, the two of them rose and walked out into the mid-morning sunshine. It was one of those glorious late-spring days . . . warm and windy, with the scent of flowers everywhere. They walked leisurely, and Barbara let Jonny take his time, not pressuring him to open up to her. Slowly, and with great difficulty, Jonny began to talk, telling her about getting the letter from M.I.T., deciding to contact the chair of the Admissions Committee, and of his visit to the school. He described his meeting with the Provost and the realization that pressure from the Trustees could only have come from one place. He described the confrontation with his father and about life in the Quest household during the succeeding weeks. Finally, he told her about the long talks that he and Jessie had concerning what they were going to do next, and the ultimate decision to move out of the Compound as soon after commencement as they could. By this time, they had reached the harbor. Barbara allowed him to take the lead, and he wandered out onto the pier. He followed the wooden boardwalk along the shoreline, away from the boats, until he came to the last of the wooden pilings. There he stopped and, leaning against the thick wooden post, he gazed out across the harbor toward the open ocean. "I was lucky enough to find a job that will support us, and Jess plans to find work once we've settled into the apartment, so we'll do well enough. I . . . I just . . ."

Moving up beside him, Barbara sat down on the edge of the pier, leaving enough room for him to join her. "What?" she said encouragingly.

After a long moment of silence, he sat down abruptly and looked her directly in the eyes. She could see the shadow of tears as he returned her gaze. "I can't stay there any more, Dr. Mason! I **can't**. Every time I look at him I feel like I'm being torn apart. Why? Why did he do something like this? All of my life, he's always told me that if I was upset or angry that I could come and talk with him about it. It never mattered what the subject was. When he found out about Jess and I . . . if it upset him so much . . . why didn't he come to **me**? I would have listened, Dr. Mason. I may not have liked what he had to say, but I would have listened. He's my **father** . . . I've always tried to respect his advice. But he didn't. Instead, he went behind my back and did everything he could to try to mess up the life Jess and I are trying to build together. Do you have any _idea_ how stupid I felt when Provost Brown told me that my admission had been pulled by the Trustees? He knew, Dr. Mason! I could see it in his eyes. He knew that it was my father's doing. It was like someone had struck me in the stomach with a baseball bat. I didn't know what to say . . . what to do . . ." He reached up and swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "How can I _ever_ trust him again?" 

Barbara looked at the bowed head of the hunched up young man beside her and felt tears prick at her own eyes. Reaching out, she caressed his blonde hair gently. Clearing her throat, she said, "I know it's been hard, Jonny. But I promise you, somehow we'll find a way to sort this out." Slowly, he gazed up at her again. His eyes appeared bruised and cloudy, and she was shaken by how young and vulnerable he looked.

Barbara allowed the silence to lengthen, giving Jonny the time to recover. Finally, she asked him, "What do you think caused this, Jonny?"

"I don't know why he did it." Jonny repeated.

"No, that's not what I meant. I mean, what do you think set him off? Do you know?"

Jonny sighed deeply. "Yes." Straightening up, he squared his shoulders and turned to face her. She got the feeling he was steeling himself for a blow as he said, "Somehow he found out that Jessie and I have been having sexual intercourse."

"And that upset him?" She kept her voice carefully neutral, showing no reaction of any kind to the admission.

"Yes." He stared at her closely and finally said, "You don't seem surprised."

She raised one eyebrow at him. "About what?"

"About what Jess and I have been doing."

"Should I be? You've never made any secret about the way you felt about her. And I know more about your family than most. So no, I'm not surprised by this." She smiled at him good-naturedly. "Furthermore, where do you suppose Jessie got her birth control pills?"

He looked momentarily flustered. "Oh . . . yeah . . . I didn't think about that." He rubbed his eyes and suddenly a shadow of his old smile flickered. "Jess even told me. She said her mom had taken her to see you."

"Yes, she did. You seemed to expect me to be shocked by that admission. Why is that?"

"I don't know," he said with a shrug. "I guess because my dad was." He looked up at her and that desperation was back again. "We were careful to be discrete, Dr. Mason. But we weren't trying to hide our relationship or deceive anyone! It was just our decision to make. We discussed it . . . prepared for it . . . and when the time was right, we did it." His voice had risen steadily and he was beginning to become upset again. "Why can't he understand that . . . "

Barbara laid a hand on his shoulder and crooned soothingly, "I know, Jonny, I know. It's okay . . ." She felt the young man shudder and she gave him some time to get himself back under control again. After a while, he sighed deeply and said,

"I also keep waiting for the shit to hit the fan again, too."

"How so?"

"I figure sooner or later Race will lay into me, too. I'm surprised he hasn't already. My father's declaration in the study that evening can't have been an easy way for Race to find out about it. I'm lucky I'm even still alive." 

"What makes you think that was the first Race knew of it?" The surprised look Jonny gave her made her smile slightly. "Race has known for quite some time."

That shocked him. "He does? He has? How?"

"Estella told him not long after Jessie told her mother. She made sure they were good and far away from the two of you and then broke the news to him."

"I didn't know Jess had told Estella."

"I think Estella pinned her down. She was expecting it and recognized the signs."

"Was Race upset?"

"Well, he would be, now wouldn't he? But Race has a lot of sense," she replied. Then she grinned at him. "He also has a very wide streak of fair play, and Estella says that he admitted later, after he'd had the chance to cool down a little, that he really couldn't fault his daughter for following his own example . . . even if it occurs to him now that it probably was a bad one." That elicited the ghost of a chuckle from Jonny. "But that takes us back to my original question. What set your father off? You're sure it was the awareness of your physical relationship with Jessie?"

"Oh, yeah. There's no doubt about that. He's said as much a couple of times." Jonny sighed. "You know, Dr. Mason, if he had just come to me . . . "

"I know," she said consolingly. "And I can't believe that there wasn't a reason why he didn't." She turned to the young man beside her. Catching his gaze firmly, she said, "The biggest problem here, Jonny, is that both of you quit talking to each other. Neither of you will give an inch and that is no way to try to find a solution."

"I don't know how to give here, Dr. Mason," Jonny replied desperately. "What he's asking . . . demanding . . . is more than I can do."

Barbara nodded and sighed. "I understand. Let's just not get ahead of ourselves, okay? We'll take this one step at a time and see where it leads."

Jonny's shoulders slumped and he nodded. "If he just would have trusted me," he said softly. Footsteps on the boardwalk caused both of them to look up and they saw Jessie approaching them slowly. Jonny and Barbara rose and turned to meet her. Stepping forward, Jonny took her into his arms and held her close. Turning back to the older woman, he said levelly, "One last thing, Dr. Mason . . ." She nodded at him. "I love Jessie more than anything else in the world. She's life itself to me, and I really do believe she always will be. For some reason, my father seems to think that I'll change my mind about that, as I get older. He's wrong . . . I won't. Whatever solution we find to this problem, the one thing I can't . . . and won't . . . accept is being separated from her or having the pace of our relationship dictated by my father. Those decisions aren't his to make, and I won't relinquish my right to make them for myself."

"I understand."

Barbara saw some of the tension in him ease as she said that. Turning back to the young woman in his arms, he tilted her head back and kissed her tenderly. With a final whispered, "I'll see you back at the house," he turned and strode away.

Barbara turned back to Jessie and gestured toward the waterside park not far away. "We seem to have a couple of boats coming in. What say we move over to the bench over there?" Jessie nodded and the two of them walked back down the boardwalk and stepped off of the pier. Wandering across the grass, Jessie went up to the large bronze statue of Andre the harbor seal that sat at the center of the park. Barbara watched in silence as the young woman circled the reclining creature, her fingers running across its surface lightly. Finally, she looked up.

"What do you want to know?"

"First, tell me the whole story in your own words."

"Where do you want me to start?"

"From the beginning."

Jessie snorted softly. "That could take all day. I was born on . . ."

Barbara laughed. "I don't think you need to go back quite that far. Start at whatever point you feel has direct impact on the current situation."

Jessie thought about it for a while. Finally, coming around to the front of the statue, she leaned against it and said, "I guess it all started in mid-December when Jonny and I talked about it and finally decided we were ready to have sex." She told Barbara about their frank discussion about their feelings, their decision that they were ready for the next step, and the way that circumstances provided the perfect opportunity to act on their decision. She talked about the subsequent months and the care they had taken to keep the relationship private. Then she told Barbara about her mother asking her point-blank about how far the relationship had progressed and of her admission that they were having sex. "She told me then that she was going to tell my father," Jessie said, looking at Barbara. Then she shrugged. "I don't know if she ever did."

Barbara nodded. "She did."

"You know that for sure?"

"Yes."

Jessie looked at her with a hint of suspicion. "How do you know?"

Barbara sighed. "Jessie, all of us need someone to talk to from time-to-time . . . even your mother. She and I have become good friends."

"What else has she told you?"

Barbara smiled slightly and said, "So what happened next?"

Realizing she wasn't going to get an answer, Jessie continued, "My dad never said anything, so things just kind of went along normally until late February."

"What happened in late February?"

"Jonny turned really tense."

Barbara looked surprised. Here was something new. "Tense in what way?"

Jessie shrugged irritably. "I don't know . . . it's hard to describe. He . . . he didn't seem to laugh as much . . . and he was jumpy. You'd come up behind him when he didn't know you were there and when you said something, he'd jump a foot. He also got secretive. I asked him repeatedly if something was bothering him, but he kept denying it."

"Something _was_ bothering him, though?"

"Yeah. I finally figured out later that he'd gotten that rejection letter from M.I.T. and that's what was causing it. You see, we'd made all of these plans . . ."

"What kind of plans?"

Jessie laughed bitterly. "We had our whole life all mapped out. We were going to go to M.I.T. and get our degrees. Then we'd get married and maybe work for a few years to get some experience, and then go back to Quest Enterprises and work with his dad. Once we were back there, we could start a family and . . ." She trailed off and Barbara saw tears shining in her eyes. "And then he got that rejection letter and everything just fell apart." She bowed her head and Barbara could hear the tears as she continued haltingly, "He came home from Cambridge so angry, and then Dr. Quest started yelling at him . . . I . . . I'd never heard him yell at any of us before . . . not like that. And he kept saying how what we were doing was so wrong . . . and how we were way too young and we didn't know what we were doing . . . and . . . and I felt . . ." She was crying in earnest now. "And it was all my fault . . ."

Barbara leaped forward and caught Jessie in her arms, holding the sobbing young woman and making comforting noises. Finally, she led the girl to a nearby bench and the two of them sat down. Fishing in her pocket, she found a tissue and gave it to Jessie, then sat quietly beside her as the young woman struggled to regain her composure. Finally, Barbara said, "Better?" Mutely, Jessie nodded. "Good. Now, what was your fault?"

"All of it," she said, sniffing audibly.

"Why?"

"Because Jonny told me clear back in December that his father wasn't ready for the reality of our relationship. He _knew_, Dr. Mason. He knew how hard it would hit Dr. Quest if we continued and he found out about it. But I was the one who pointed out that it wasn't Dr. Quest's decision to make and that it should be up to us."

"Did you pressure Jonny into advancing the relationship?"

"N-n-no," she stuttered a little. Then she added uncertainly, "I don't think I did . . ."

Barbara shook her head. "Don't start to second guess yourself, Jessie. Go with your initial impression. Did you pressure him into anything?"

Her head came up and she looked the other woman in the eye. "No," she said with surety this time. "We discussed it . . . like adults . . . and it was later, after he'd thought about it for a while, that we decided to make that commitment."

"Good. Now, I want you to think about this very carefully before you answer me, okay?" The girl nodded. "Looking at everything that has gone on and all that's been said, how do you feel? About Benton . . . about Jonny . . . about your relationship with both of them . . . and about what you and Jonny are planning to do next."

Jessie was quiet for a long time, and Barbara could see her trying to sort through everything and find an answer. Finally, she took a deep breath and said, "I love Jonny Quest with all my heart. The idea of being separated from him is like facing the idea of dying." She looked up at Barbara. "We've been through separation before, Dr. Mason. There was a point when he thought I had died. And there was a time when I thought the same thing about him." Barbara watched as a shudder passed through Jessie. "I don't know what I would do if I had to face that again." Barbara nodded at her encouragingly. "As far as Dr. Quest is concerned . . . " Tears brimmed again and Jessie struggled desperately to hold them back. "I had always felt that he loved me . . . and that he was pleased that I loved his son. I never tried to take anything away from him. If anything, I thought that my love for Jonny brought me closer to him and that my being around made him happy. To find out that he resented me . . . wanted me gone . . ." A single tear escaped and slipped down her face. "I . . . it hurt, Dr. Mason . . . a lot . . . and it still hurts . . . " Barbara ached for this young woman. "But I still love him . . . and I understand that a lot of his pain is because his wife died so suddenly . . ." Jessie fell silent, but Barbara got the feeling she wasn't done yet. So she sat quietly, waiting. Suddenly, the girl looked up at her and said, "Jonny says he thinks we've cut Dr. Quest too much slack over Rachel's death."

Barbara raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Does he, now."

Jessie nodded. "He said that he thinks we tiptoe around the subject too much and that it's time that Dr. Quest just gets over it."

"He may be right. But I have to say it's a bit like the pot calling the kettle black. He was saying just a little while ago that he could never let go of you, either."

That brought a glimmer of a smile. "They're a whole lot alike, Dr. Quest and Jonny."

Barbara chuckled a bit sourly, "Too much alike sometimes, I'm afraid."

"Isn't that the truth!" Then the smile faded. "I said something to him that was pretty unfair, Dr. Mason."

"To whom?"

"Dr. Quest."

"What did you say?"

"It was the morning after Jonny's trip to M.I.T. Jonny had left the room and Dr. Quest was trying to convince me to talk Jonny into splitting up for a while and going away to school."

"Rather a lot to ask of you, I think."

"Yeah, well . . . I was pretty upset."

"I can imagine."

"He asked me if I thought it was really so much to ask of us."

"What did you say?"

Jessie sighed. "I told him that he should ask himself the same question . . . considering he'd had to do without Rachel for so long."

Barbara winced. "Ouch."

"Yeah, I know. I shouldn't have said it."

"But you kept thinking about what Jonny had said about cutting him too much slack over Rachel's death."

"Well, I don't remember consciously thinking that at the time, but . . ."

"I understand. And now, Jessie? How do you feel about your plans to move to Boston and set out on your own?"

The young woman was quiet for a very long time. Finally, she sighed. "I'm scared, Dr. Mason, and that's the honest truth. But even so, I still think it's the right thing to do. We can't stay in that house. The rapport that Jonny and his dad used to share is gone. Life is just awful and has been for months. And even if the two of them start talking again, there will always be that one thing Dr. Quest said that will hang over our heads . . ."

"What did he say?"

"It was a very parental thing and he was angry at the time, but I have to admit that I never really expected to hear him say it."

"What?"

" 'As long as you're living in _my_ house . . .' "

"Oh, hell. He didn't."

"Yes, he did."

_Damn it, Benton, what the hell were you thinking?_ Barbara thought to herself in disgust. _What did you do, plan to say all of the things that were custom-designed to set them off? You really aren't making my life easy._

"Well, we deal with what we're given, right?" Barbara stood and smiled down at her companion. "What do you say we head back? I still want to talk with your parents and it's starting to get on toward lunchtime. I only have a limited window here. I want to be certain to be back at the office before Benton wakes up."

Jessie rose and the two of them turned to walk back toward town. "_**Is**_ there something wrong with him, Dr. Mason? Jonny's right. He hasn't been looking very well lately. In fact, I'm not sure he's been totally right since before Thanksgiving."

Barbara frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I know he's been under a lot of strain. First, Jonny falling off the high cliff out behind the house just devastated him. Even after that whole business was resolved and we were all back together safely, he used to disappear for long periods of time all by himself. We all just figured he was trying to get his equilibrium back. Then the attack on Mom and Dad happened and that really shook him. And then Baxter's people tried for Kefira and I, and that guy Baxter sent smacked me around. I didn't realize it until later, but that _really_ upset him . . . even more than it did Jonny, actually. Then Baxter's people blew up the house and for a few minutes we thought we'd lost Hadji. And we'd no more than gotten that all cleaned up and the house repaired when _this_ happened." She shook her head. "I can't pin it down, but he just hasn't seemed quite himself for a long time now."

"You're right," Barbara agreed. "He's been under a lot of stress over the past few months. I haven't had the chance to ask him yet, but I'm guessing he isn't sleeping well, either. That may be all it is, and hopefully, some start of a solution to this _and_ several good nights sleep should give him the opportunity to bounce back. He's always been disgustingly healthy."

"I don't ever remember him being sick."

"I can't say that I do, either. So I would think that some rest is all he needs now. But like I told Jonny, I'll check to be certain."

"Thank you."

Barbara smiled at the young woman and, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, gave her a quick, reassuring hug. But inside, the gnawing concern grew. 

_Something is going on with you, Benton Quest,_ she thought worriedly. _I just hope I can find out what it is before it's too late . . ._

  


* * * * *

  


The trip back to the Quest Compound was quiet, with Jessie wrapped up in her own thoughts. The interviews with Race, Estella, Hadji and Kefira had turned out to be interesting, as well, and began to reinforce an idea that was slowly forming in her mind. Right before she left, she talked with Jonny and Jessie one more time and elicited a promise from both of them that they wouldn't leave before she was able to get them together to talk one more time. She promised both of them that she would move quickly and asked that they be available at 10:00 the next morning unless she called and told them differently. They both agreed.

It was nearing 3:00 p.m. when she finally walked back into her office. Nicki, her receptionist, smiled and told her that she had been able to reschedule all of her day's appointments without a problem and none of her patients had indicated a need to see her urgently. Barbara nodded and asked her to see about clearing her schedule for the next day as well. As she walked toward her office, she could already hear Nicki starting to dial the phone. She found her nurse, Kathy, at the back of the office in the dispensary and confirmed that Benton was still sleeping in her office. They had checked on him periodically throughout the day, but he hadn't stirred.

Satisfied, Barbara returned to her office and opened the door quietly. He still lay on the sofa, the blanket tucked snuggly around him, and his even breathing indicated he still slept. She closed the door softly and crossed to her desk. She'd been sitting there making notes on a pad for no more than ten minutes when he finally stirred. She heard him shift and when she looked over, her gaze met his open eyes.

"Hello," she said softly. "Feeling better?"

"I don't really know," he replied, sounding dazed. He sat up gingerly and grunted. "How long have I been here?"

She checked her watch. "About seven hours. You were dead to the world."

The worry lines settled into his face again. "You shouldn't have left me here that long! I need to be at home."

"You needed to be right where you were . . . getting some rest." She rose and went to her lab coat, which was hanging in a nearby closet. Taking her stethoscope from the pocket she gestured at him. "Come on."

He rose obediently and followed her out of the office. "To where?"

She opened the door of the nearest exam room and gestured him inside. "To here. Up on the table."

He balked immediately. "I don't need . . ."

_**"Get up on that table!"**_ she barked sharply and shoved him toward it. "Your entire family is worried sick about you. They made me promise to you give a good going over before I let you go home and I'm not going to disappoint them."

Grumbling, he climbed up and sat down. "This is silly . . ."

"Take off your shirt," she commanded. "It's not silly."

"I'm never sick."

"No, and we're going to see that you stay that way. Say 'ah'."

"Ahhh."

"You are a trial, Benton Quest, and there is no doubt about it. You ride herd on everyone else and force them into taking care of themselves, but you simply won't do the same. Breathe deeply."

Sitting up straight, he inhaled.

"Good. Again." Systematically, she ran though the standard physical. Everything appeared to be normal. Sticking her head out the door, she called up the hall, "Kathy, get me a blood draw kit."

"Very professional," Benton said dryly.

She grinned back at him. "Since you're the only patient in the house right now, I'm not going to stand on ceremony."

He looked surprised. "Quiet day? It's not like you not to have an office full of patients at 3:00 in the afternoon. And why do you want a blood draw kit, anyway? They did that this morning."

"Because I'm going to do it again. And I shuffled my schedule around today. Thanks, Kathy," she replied as the woman stuck her head in the door and handed her the tray. Ripping open the packet, she wrapped the rubber band around his upper arm and tightened it. Then she handed him a wooden dowel and directed, "Make a fist." She swabbed his arm with alcohol and then searched until she found a vein. With a deft movement she inserted the needle and completed the process. Pulling the rubber band loose, she pressed a gauze pad tightly against his arm and said, "Arm up over your head and press." As she turned to the counter behind her, she said quietly, "Okay, Benton, I want you to tell me what all of this is _really_ about."

"What do you mean?" he said and she could hear the defenses go up.

She labeled the two tubes of blood and then turned back to him. Leaning against the counter, she crossed her arms across her chest and stared him straight in the eyes. "Your behavior over the last few months is not like you at all." She held up her hand to forestall his heated response. "And before you start denying it or getting angry, let me stop you right here. You _have_ been acting strangely. You've said and done things that I _never_ would have expected you to do . . . things that are totally out of character. I want to know why."

"How would you know what's in character for me and what isn't?" he demanded defensively. "And what business is it of yours, anyway?"

For the first time that day, Barbara's anger flared, and she deliberately let him see it. "_You_ brought me into this, remember, not the other way around. **You** came to _**me**_. I have spent this entire damned day trying to piece together just exactly what's been happening during these last five months and I will tell you without hesitation that things are a disaster. I've heard what everyone else has to say. Now I'm asking you . . . what the hell is going on?"

"I told you this morning," he said sullenly, dropping his arm and reaching for his shirt.

Picking up a clean gauze pad and a strip of surgical tape from the tray, she crossed back to him. She checked his arm, applied the gauze, and taped it securely in place. "Leave that on for a couple of hours. Yes, you told me. You told me what had happened. What you didn't tell me is _why_. Benton, you are a great many things, but naïve is **not** one of them. You had to know the direction Jonny and Jessie's relationship was heading. Surely it didn't come as a complete surprise."

Benton sighed. "No, I suppose it didn't. Although I do think that I was denying it to myself pretty thoroughly. I just didn't want to see it. If I did, it would mean that I had to acknowledge that Jonny was almost grown and would be . . . that he . . . that I would be losing him . . ."

Barbara looked at him with a frown. "But he was getting ready to go off to school, anyway."

"Yes, but for some reason that was different. Being in college was just a small step from being in high school. Yes, he wouldn't be living at home, but still . . . The realization that he and Jessie had . . . " He stumbled to a halt.

Barbara gazed at him for a minute and then said softly, "It confirmed that he is truly an adult, and not your little boy anymore."

Benton closed his eyes and Barbara got the distinct impression that he was trying to shut out something more than the room they were in. "'Adult'. Yes . . . yes, it was certainly that."

"How did you find out about it, Benton?" she pursued, warned by the tone of his voice that she was getting close to whatever it was that set the entire disaster in motion.

He sighed and his shoulders drooped. After a minute, he rubbed his head and looked at her again. "I . . . caught them."

Inwardly, Barbara winced. _Ouch,_ she thought. "Tell me about it."

Benton slid down off of the examination table and shrugged into his shirt. He buttoned it slowly as he stared at the floor. "It was the second week of February." A humorless smile twisted his lips fleetingly. "February 6th, to be precise. I had a Board of Trustees meeting at M.I.T. that day and from there I was leaving on a research trip for a week. As usual, Race was going with me to handle logistics, Hadji and Kefira were off at college, and Estella was in Bogota fighting with the museum over her last dig again. The house was still under construction and that meant that someone had to stay there to oversee the project and get the construction crews in and out through Compound security. Since Jonny and Jessie were still in school, they were the logical choice. None of us thought a thing about it."

"Of course not. They'd done it before."

"Yes." He sighed and sat down a nearby chair. Barbara pulled up her rolling stool and sat down nearby. "I'd left early . . . about 7:00 . . . since I was driving down to Cambridge. Once I was finished, I was to join Race at Logan Airport in Boston and we were going directly from there. I was about half an hour out of Rockport before I realized that I'd left the file with all my notes for the Trustees meeting sitting on the desk in my bedroom. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have worried about it, but this time, there were some survey forms that I needed, so I ended up going back for it." Benton slouched back in the chair and extended his legs out in front of him. Laying his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes and continued, "I was in a hurry, so I used my system override as I turned onto the access road to the Compound."

"I get the feeling there's some significance to that," Barbara commented, watching him closely.

"Yes. As long as the Compound security isn't on alert, it shuts down the entire system and opens the gate without triggering any sort of alarms. It also overrides any standing instructions."

"And that means?"

Benton sighed again. "And that means that the notify command the kids had set up didn't function, so they had no warning that I was on my way back."

"Oh."

That humorless smile flickered again. "Yes. I parked at the front of the house, went straight in the door and up the stairs to my bedroom. The file was right where I thought it would be. I grabbed it and was heading for the stairs again when I heard them." He seemed to be talking compulsively now, as if unable to stop. "They were very . . . very . . . " He hesitated, searching for the right word, and then continued jerkily, " . . . involved . . . and Jessie was . . . was . . ."

"Noisy?" Barbara supplied, when he faltered.

"Yes. And he . . . was just as bad. You could tell this wasn't their first time. They knew _**exactly**_ what they were doing. My timing couldn't have been better . . . "

"Or worse?" she prompted.

"Or worse," he agreed. He stopped, breathing deeply. Finally, his smile flickered again and this time it contained a shadow of real humor. "I caught them right at the climax of the entire experience . . . if you'll forgive the pun."

Barbara laughed softly and looked at him with sympathy. "You didn't confront them, obviously."

"No." He shook his head. "I ran. That's the honest truth. I don't even remember getting to Cambridge. The next thing I remember clearly was sitting in the Boardroom at M.I.T., staring down at a batch of papers and seeing Jonny's name leap off the page at me. It was the memo from the Admissions Committee with the list of students to be offered admission for the fall term. Both Jonny and Jessie's names were on that list. I remember thinking that if one of them didn't get in, then they'd be forced to go to different schools and they wouldn't be able to . . . " He stumbled to a halt. Then, in a bewildered voice, he said, "I never _dreamed_ he would simply refuse to go to school at **all** . . ." He shook his head again. "What the _hell_ was I thinking, Barbara? I remember looking across the room and seeing Chuck Vest. The next thing I knew, I was giving him some lame excuse about there being 'personal circumstances' that made it better for Jonny to attend school further away from home and asking him, as a personal favor to me, to see that Jonny's request for admission got denied."

"And it did."

"Yes. And when he found out about it, all hell broke loose."

"I'm surprised they told him."

"My son is persistent, if nothing else."

"Obviously."

"I have made a serious mess out of all of this, Barbara, but the truth is that I still think I'm right. They're too young for this and they'd be better off stepping back for a while. And I simply can't tolerate Jonny not going on to school. He's way too intelligent to settle for some 8:00 to 5:00 job, no matter how good the salary is."

Barbara sighed. "I understand, but let's take this one step at a time. First, the two of us are going to get some dinner. I don't know about you, but I haven't eaten since about 6:30 this morning and I'm famished. Then I'm going to follow you back out to the Compound and you are going straight to bed. And I'll tolerate **no** arguments. You're still looking seriously tired, Benton, and tomorrow isn't going to be an easy day. You need to get a good night's sleep so you're prepared to tackle it. And while you do it, I'm going to think about what everyone has told me. At 10:00 tomorrow morning, you and your son, and maybe Jessie, are going to sit down and see if we can't address some of things that have been going on."

"But . . ."

"Benton, do you trust me?"

"Of course!" he replied promptly.

"Then let's do it my way, okay?"

Finally, he nodded. "Alright. We'll try it your way."

"Good. Come on. We've got a drive ahead of us."

He looked at her in surprise. "We do?"

"Yes. I want steak au poivre and the only place around here I know to get good steak au poivre is in Augusta, so we better get started. I'll even buy."

Benton stood up and smiled at her. "No, I'll buy. It's the least I can do." He gestured at the door. "After you . . ."

  


* * * * *

  


It was nearing 10:00 a.m. the next morning when Barbara Mason drove through the front gate of the Quest Compound. She was tense. A great deal hung on what would happen during the next couple of hours. 

She and Benton had gone to Augusta for dinner in Benton's car. It was a relaxed affair and she deliberately kept the conversation away from Benton's problems with his son. At about 9:00, they left the restaurant and headed back to Rockport. Benton was tired and had allowed her to convince him that she should drive. He had dozed most of the way back. She took him directly home, overriding his protests that it left her stranded at the Compound without her car. She saw him safely into bed and stayed until she knew he was soundly asleep. He probably wasn't happy when he woke up this morning, since she had managed to drug him again to ensure that he slept soundly all night, but she would endure his wrath on that one. Seeing that he got the much-needed rest was more important. After that, she had gotten Race to run her back to her office, where she picked up her car and went home. Then, she spent the rest of the night lying in bed staring sleeplessly at the ceiling as she reviewed the entire situation over and over.

Benton had been right. He'd made a serious mess of things. His own personal fears and emotions had been kept tightly bottled up for way too long. Even Race, who knew him better than anyone alive, had no idea how deeply the man's insecurities ran. Without ever having known the woman, Barbara recognized that it was Rachel's unshakeable faith in her husband that had allowed Benton the freedom to excel. And when she died, that anchor to his self-confidence had been cut. He should have sought professional help almost immediately after her death, but that hadn't happened and the problems continued to grow. It had been Jonny and Hadji's love and faith in him that had steadied Benton Quest. Barbara shook her head silently as she parked the car on the rain-soaked circular drive. And that was the real heart of today's problem. Benton had never developed that honest faith in himself . . . he had simply transferred his dependence from his wife to his sons. And now, 12 years later, his world was crashing in on him again as his sons prepared themselves for their own lives.

Jonny had been right. When Benton discovered what had been going on between he and Jessie, he should have confronted Jonny with it directly. No matter how nasty that scene might have gotten, it would have been preferable to what actually happened. It was also true that it would have been better if Jonny had taken the initiative and told Benton the truth from the beginning, but that was water under the bridge, too. The important thing now was to figure out how to mend the damage that had already been done. She hoped she had the strength and the wisdom to accomplish it.

Estella greeted her at the door and drew her into the entryway.

"How are things this morning?" Barbara asked softly.

"Tense," Estella replied, taking her raincoat and hanging it in the front closet. "Jonny and Jessie are still packing, and both of them are avoiding Benton like a plague. Their plans are to be out of here by early this afternoon."

Barbara gazed at the other woman steadily. "You realize, don't you, that there is no way to stop them from leaving, and I'm not even going to try. If I give even the slightest hint that I support Benton in his desire to keep one or both of them here against their will, those two are going to turn on me and we'll never get anywhere. The key to this whole thing is for me to remain neutral and serve as a catalyst to try to get them to start talking again."

Estella sighed and nodded. "We realize that. You know, of course, that Race and I don't approve of what they're doing, either. On that score, we both agree with Benton. They're too young to be severing all ties and setting off on their own like this. They have no idea how hard this is really going to be. And Jonny **should** be in school. He's far too bright to pass up the opportunity to advance his education. He's being stubborn and short-sighted."

"Have you said that to them?"

"Not in such harsh words," Estella replied, shaking her head. "We don't dare. We're in the same position you're in. Right now, both of them are still talking to us and we've been scared to death that if we push too hard, they'll shut us out exactly the way they've done with Benton. Then where would we be?"

Barbara nodded. "I think that's wise. And I'll say this much, Estella. With the way things are right now, I'm not so certain that Jonny's decision not to attend school immediately isn't the right one." She held up her hand, forestalling the other woman's protest. "I don't think he's decided never to go on. I think he just realizes that it's more than he can deal with right now. You have to remember that at virtually any school he attends, he's going to be running into colleagues of Benton's everywhere he turns. And because Jonny always traveled with Benton, they will all recognize him. When that happens, the immediate response will be for them to ask him about his father. Right now, that wound is way too raw. I think he's smart to step away. Give him some time to get his feet back under him. He'll go on to school eventually, I'm sure of it. You're right . . . he's too bright not to, and the eight to five grind will lose it's gloss soon enough."

Estella nodded slowly. "You know, I'd never considered that. Benton seems to know _everybody_. He'd never get away from it." 

Barbara was nodding as Race came into the entryway and joined them. From the expression on his face, she knew that he had been listening to the conversation for a while before putting in an appearance. She looked from one to the other gravely. "What you both need to understand is that Jonny has been seriously rocked by this. He's always trusted his father without question. But Benton's actions shattered that trust and now he no longer knows how to relate to him. It's like he's searching for firm ground and is finding only shifting sand. My goal today is to start laying the foundations that will allow them to rebuild that sense of trust. And that means opening the door for dialog between them." She was quiet for a moment, gazing at them. "And there is a wild card in this mix that can make or break the situation, I think. Jessie."

"Jessie!" Estella exclaimed.

Barbara nodded. "Jonny's attachment to her, and hers to him, is real . . . not some teenager's first crush. If I ever doubted it, I don't any longer . . . not after having talked with both of them yesterday. No matter how rational and calm we try to be, when Benton lashes out at her there will be repercussions. And I think it's a foregone conclusion that Benton **will** lash out at her . . . sooner or later. It's not that he doesn't love her, or even that he begrudges her the relationship with his son, it's more that she represents what he feels he's losing. It's not rational, I know, but that's how it is. Eventually, he's got to vent those emotions, and that's not going to be pretty. What the end result will be will depend largely on how well Jessie can weather the storm. If she can remain calm and hold her temper, I think we should be all right. But if she loses it . . . either in anger or in tears . . . she will set Jonny off, and we may end up being in a worse position than we were before. I've talked to her about this and she says that she understands. We'll just have to wait and see how things play out."

"Maybe it would be better if you met with Benton and Jonny without her being there," Race ventured.

"It probably would be," Barbara agreed. "But I'm not sure we can accomplish that. Jonny and Jessie are forming up into a unit. Watch their body language. It's instinct, when one of them comes under stress, for the other to literally drop in beside. They stand shoulder-to-shoulder and face the threat together, head-on. It's amazing to see, and they're remarkably consistent about it. I don't think that Jessie will let Jonny walk into that meeting alone."

"If she understands how important it is . . ."

"Maybe."

"I'll talk with her," Estella said and moved off determinedly. 

Barbara sighed. "Come on," she said to Race, "let's get this over with."

Race said, "Benton's in his study. I'll go up and ask Jonny to come down and join you there . . ."

"No!" Barbara said sharply. "Not Benton's study . . . not the lighthouse . . . and not the seating area in Benton's room. We need neutral ground . . . somewhere that will give neither of them the feeling that the other starts with an advantage."

"How about the sitting area in our quarters," Race asked. "Neither of them has spent any large amount of time there. It will be as neutral as we can find here."

Barbara nodded. "That will do. Give me five minutes with Benton and then go get Jonny and take him there. I'll bring Benton."

Race nodded and moved away as Barbara headed down the hall to Benton's study. She knocked on the door and entered at his call. She smiled at him as she crossed the floor, all the while observing him closely. He didn't look quite as ragged this morning. The lines of exhaustion had eased slightly and his eyes were clear and aware, but she could see the tension in the set of his shoulders and the tightness of his mouth.

"Good morning," she said gently. "Are you feeling better today?"

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied, glancing away as she came to lean on the corner of the desk near him.

She reached out and caught his chin with two fingers, tilting his head so he was forced to look at her. "No lies and no hedging today, Benton. It's important that you be totally honest, both with me and with your son. Covering up feelings or trying to hide behind walls is going to do more harm than good."

Benton pulled away and stood, striding over to stare out across the green, rain-swept lawn. "How do I do that, Barbara? How do I get him to understand that what I did was for his own good? I've told him over and over . . ."

"Yes, Benton, you have," she said gently. "You've **told** him. But he's not a child any longer. That's the first thing you are going to have to accept. You can't tell him things and expect him to obey you blindly any more."

He turned back to her. "You think I should have gone to him and simply asked him to stop sleeping with Jessie."

"Yes."

"And if he had told me that it was none of my business?"

"Then you should have accepted that and let it go. Because the truth is, Benton, it **isn't** your business any longer. I'm not telling you that you necessarily have to _like_ his decisions or that you shouldn't try to discuss those decisions with him so that he sees all the likely repercussions clearly. But I am telling you that you **do** have to respect his right to make them, and to let him live with the consequences."

"But he's so young . . ."

"Not so young any more . . . and I don't mean in terms of his sexuality. He's old enough to be able to make his way as an adult. No, it won't be easy, but then, it wasn't for us, either, now was it? You simply can't tell him what to do any more. The more you try, the more you're going to alienate him. All you can do is give him advice. Whether he takes it or not will be up to him."

Benton hung his head and rubbed his neck wearily. "I royally screwed this up, didn't I?"

Barbara laughed lightly, trying to dispel some of the gloom and tension surrounding her companion. "Let's just say that you've done things with your usual fine style. Come on, let's go meet with your son and see if we can't start to rebuild the rapport the two of you used to share."

She drew him toward the door and, as she opened it, he looked at her in confusion. "Where are we going?" he asked, following her into the hall.

"To Race and Estella's sitting room."

"But I thought that we would . . ." he began, gesturing at the door behind him, but he trailed off at her look. "Oh. Not exactly Geneva, is it?"

"You're learning," she said with a soft laugh. She gestured at the door to Race and Estella's suite. "Go on, you first."

Jonny was already waiting when the two of them entered. He sat, upright and tense, in the corner of the long sofa that occupied one wall of the room. Barbara saw that two additional chairs had been drawn up to form a loose circle around where the young man was sitting. There was no sign of Jessie.

The two men eyed each other warily as Barbara sat down. She looked from one to the other and then, in a calm, even voice she began.

"We're here because things have happened in the last several months that have caused a rift to develop between the two of you that is nearing the point of being irreparable. I think that both of you agree that allowing that to happen is unacceptable. Am I right about that?" Both men nodded slowly. "Good. That gives us a starting place. I spent yesterday talking to all of you, listening to each of your versions of how this came about. What I'm going to do now is review what happened from what I've been able to piece together from what each of you has told me. I don't want either of you to say a word until I'm finished, okay? I want you to sit there and _**listen**_. Will you do that?" Again, both men nodded.

Going back to December, she began with Jonny and Jessie's discussion on the decision to move their relationship into a physical one and described all of the subsequent events that led up to Benton's arrival in her office the day before. She watched as the care that the two young people had taken in preparing for the consummation of their relationship registered with Benton, and she didn't miss the relief on his face when he realized that Jessie had discussed the matter with her mother before the event. She also didn't miss Jonny's wince as she described the way in which Benton discovered the truth. When she finally finished, she was quiet for a moment, letting the words sink in. Finally, she asked, "Was all of that accurate, or did I miss anything?"

Wordlessly, both men shook their heads.

"Okay. So now we have the actual events in front of us and we all agree to their accuracy. That leaves us with two things: actions and feelings. That's where the real problem lies." She looked from one to the other. "All of us are driven by emotions . . . both good and bad. Fear, anger, resentment, insecurity . . . the darker emotions on one side of the slate, while on the other you have love, joy, hope, happiness. And it's a constant battle to keep those things in balance. The things we do . . . the actions we take . . . are usually a response to the feelings we have about things that have happened to us. And until we all become mind readers, the only way for a group of people to be able to deal with our feelings and to moderate our actions so that we maintain that balance is to be willing to be open and honest about things that bother us, and to talk out our issues. That's what . . ."

"Why didn't you just come to me?" Jonny suddenly burst out, unable to stay silent any longer. "I've never given you any reason to think you couldn't trust me, have I? That I wouldn't be willing to talk about _anything_ that's bothering you? I knew you weren't ready for this. It's why Jess and I decided not to tell you about it . . ."

"Then why did you do it?" Benton demanded, in return. "Why were you in such a hurry . . ."

"Waiting until **you're** ready to decide what **I** need to do . . ." Jonny snapped back, his voice rising sharply.

**"STOP!!!"** Barbara Mason's voice echoed loudly in the sudden silence, cutting off the escalating argument sharply. She looked at both of them sternly. "Haven't you both had enough of yelling at each other? You're here to try to sort this out like adults, not scream at each other like children. Both of you have valid points and **both** of you made mistakes. We will start by conceding that point or we aren't going to get anywhere. Are we clear on that?"

Reluctantly, both nodded their agreement.

"Okay. Then . . . calmly . . . let's start with Jonny's first question. Benton, I want you to think about this and I want you to try to tell us why you didn't go to Jonny to discuss this when it first happened."

"Because I knew he wouldn't listen to me," Benton replied promptly. Barbara held up her hand, forestalling Jonny's heated response.

"Why? How could you be so certain that he wouldn't be willing to listen? Did he regularly refuse to listen to your advice or concerns? Or refuse to talk when you asked him to? Or, taking another thing he asked, didn't you trust him for some reason?"

"No, I've always trusted him. That was never an issue." Barbara could literally feel the tension level in the room drop and when she shot a look at the younger man, she saw a glimmer of hope for the first time. After some thought, Benton continued, "As for his willingness to listen, he's always been willing to sit down and talk about things in the past."

"So what made you think he wouldn't listen this time?"

Silence stretched out as Benton struggled to find a way to put his thoughts into words. Finally, he replied, "Because of how deeply involved he is. He . . . loses touch with reality . . . when he and Jessie are separated. I don't know how else to describe it. And I knew that if I tried to suggest that they needed to back off and give it some breathing space, that he would close up on me and I would never be able to reason with him." Benton turned to Barbara desperately, almost seeming to be unaware that his son was still in the room. "You weren't there . . . in Cairo . . . when Jessie was dying. We tried to reach him. We tried so **_hard!!!_** But he wouldn't listen. It was like he was dying right along with her and nothing we could do would stop it. And . . . and then, at Christmas, when Estella tripped those old memories and he froze up . . ." His breathing had increased sharply as his gaze turned inward. "God, Barbara, he was turning blue! If Race hadn't snapped him out of it . . ." He leaned forward and buried his face in his hands and she could see the shudder that passed through him. 

She reached out and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Then, she turned to the younger man and said quietly, "Jonny?"

Jonny looked seriously shaken. He wet his lips and cleared his throat, as though not entirely certain what to say. Finally, he shook his head and stuttered, "I . . . I don't . . . I . . ." He stopped and then took a deep, steadying breath. "I don't know how to respond to that. I can't explain why I do things like that. I just do. My mind just seems to focus on something and I can't let it go. In London, when all those things started happening to Jess, it was like a light dawned and I suddenly realized how much I really did care for her. And it was like a freight train bearing down on me. Things kept going wrong and I couldn't do anything to stop them. And then Keller hurt her so badly and I knew that it was all my fault . . ."

His father's head snapped up sharply. "It **wasn't** your fault. You had no control over Baxter's people."

"But it was! If I hadn't been so stupid about Francesca in the first place, none of it would have happened!"

"You don't know that," Benton said urgently, reaching across the space between them but not touching his son. "We still would have gone to Cairo and we still would have come up against Baxter's men. You have no way of knowing what would have happened there. Jonny, you can't keep blaming yourself because Jessie was hurt in Cairo. It wasn't your fault!"

"They took her right out of my arms! I couldn't protect her."

"Just as I couldn't protect your mother." Barbara watched the two of them. This was an honest exchange, the current difficulties momentarily forgotten, in the face of much older, shared pain. Benton sighed heavily. "Jonny, the way you froze up at Christmas . . . haven't you wondered how Race knew _exactly_ what to do?" Jonny looked at him blankly. "_**I**_ used to do that . . . after your mother died. I couldn't get it out of my mind . . . seeing her lying there with her blood draining out onto the sand. All the things I knew . . . everything I'd ever done . . . and none of it was worth a damn. She believed in me and trusted me without reservation and all I could do was hold her as she died in my arms. It would replay itself over and over and over in my head like an endless loop, and over it all was the sound of your screams. No child should be forced to watch their mother die violently. I failed her . . . and you."

**"NO!!!!"** Jonny said loudly. "It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done!" Barbara shivered, struck by an eerie feeling of déjà vu as she listened to the two of them parrot almost identical words back and forth about incidents that happened ten years apart. 

"It's why I clung to Rachel's memory so fiercely," Benton continued. "It was the only thing that would keep that image at bay. And for years, when I was faced with a hard decision or you were sick or threatened, I'd turn to her memory in my head." His lips twisted into a smile that contained no humor. "Sometimes, it was almost as though I could talk with her. But at Christmas . . . when you . . . I realized that hanging on to her like that was wrong . . . that I had to let her go, no matter how hard it was. But it was already too late, wasn't it?" He turned away, and suddenly he seemed to sag and turned gray. "I'd already taught you to be that way, hadn't I?"

Barbara sat forward in alarm, not liking his sudden change in appearance. "Benton, are you feeling alright?"

Jonny was beside his father in an instant, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other on his forehead. "Dad? Dad, what's wrong?"

After a minute, Benton shook his head. "Nothing. I'm all right."

"No, you aren't!" Barbara said sharply, grabbing his wrist and feeling for a pulse. "I told you not to hedge with me today. Tell me what it is!"

Benton just shook his head again and shook her hand loose from his arm. "I'm tired, that's all, and I've got a headache." He looked up at his son and smiled ruefully. "I'm afraid I haven't been sleeping very well recently."

Jonny drew his father against him and looked over his head to Barbara, a questioning look on his face. She shook her head at him and said briskly, "I think we've done enough."

"No!" Benton said instantly. "We need to get this resolved. I'm fine, I promise."

Fighting to hide her ever-growing concern, she smiled at both of them. "But I've accomplished what I hoped to. We've made a start. The two of you are talking again. I'm not a miracle worker," she said to their nearly identical look. "I can't magically fix the pain and trouble you've been through. All I was trying to do was open the door so that you would begin to talk honestly with each other again. Both of you have issues that need to be worked through, not the least of which are those of trust. But that can't all be accomplished today. It's going to be a slow, steady rebuilding process and it's going to take time. But you've proved that you are both still capable of discussing things calmly, like adults. Do you think you can continue to do that?"

Jonny looked down at his father, who still sat in the circle of his son's arm. When he looked back up again, his eyes were clear and determined. "Yes," he said firmly.

"Benton?"

"Yes," he agreed wearily.

"Good. I'm always here if you need me, and I'm also going to give you some names of several very good psychologists, both here and in Boston. Whether you choose to use them or not is up to you. I don't think it would hurt either of you any, but I'm also not convinced that their help is vital at this point. That will depend on whether you can keep honest lines of communication open between the two of you."

"Thanks," Jonny said, and his gratitude was clear. "We won't let it get this bad again."

"And we'll have the sense to ask for help when we need it," Benton agreed.

Barbara nodded. "Good." After a moment's hesitation, she looked at Jonny and asked, "So, what are you going to do now?"

Jonny hesitated, clearly torn, but it was Benton who replied heavily, "He's going to continue with his plans to move to Boston . . . aren't you?"

Jonny stared down at his father for a long moment and then nodded. Benton looked up at him seriously. "I really don't want you to do this, son."

"I know," Jonny replied. The answer was quiet and calm with no underlying anger or coldness to it, but it was also obvious that there was no room for flexibility either. "I'm scheduled to start work on Monday. It's too late to change things now. And, Dad, this is something I really _want_ to do." 

Benton rubbed his face wearily. "I won't lie to you and tell you I'm happy about this, Jonny. I'm not. I'm not happy you aren't going to school, and I'm not happy that you and Jessie are going to be living together, unmarried. And I can't promise you that I won't keep after you about both things. But I'm forced to accept it's your choice to make and I won't further alienate you by fighting with you about it now. I owe you that much for my behavior." 

"Thank you," Jonny replied quietly. Benton nodded and stood wearily. He looked at his son for a long instant and then reached out and laid his hand on Jonny's shoulder. "I love you very much, Jonathan. I don't want to lose you."

Jonny reached up and covered Benton's hand with his own. "I love you too, Dad."

Turning away from his son, Benton held out his hand. "Thank you, Barbara. I don't know what we would have done without your concern and common sense."

She smiled, caught his arm and drew it across her shoulder as she turned him toward the door. "You're very welcome. And you can show your gratitude by letting me take you up to your room and put you back to bed. You still haven't caught up on your rest and now is a good time to start."

He chuckled as the three of them moved out into the hall. "Mother hen."

"Damned right," she said spiritedly. She turned to Jonny as they neared the stairs. "Why don't you go on with what you were doing while I take your father upstairs. Will you be leaving today?" 

Barbara saw him glance over at Jessie, who stood with the rest of the family in the entryway to the family room. She nodded imperceptibly, and Jonny replied, "Yeah, we're almost finished. We want to get the truck unloaded in Boston so we can use the next couple of days getting settled in before I have to start work."

Barbara nodded. "Then why don't you go on and I'll see your father settled and resting. You can come in and say goodbye before you leave."

"Dad?" his son asked.

"Go on. I'll talk to you again before you go."

As Barbara urged him up the stairs, Race dropped into place on his other side.

"You look like hell," he commented critically to Benton.

"Nag, nag, nag," Benton replied without heat. "You all sound like a broken record."

"Can you get him up to his room and into bed, Race? I need to get something out of my car." He nodded. Barbara paused at the head of the stairs and smiled quickly at Benton. "I'll be right back." She turned and passed Hadji and Kefira coming up the staircase as she descended again. Turning, she strode swiftly back to Benton's study. Crossing to the desk, she picked up the phone and dialed a number from memory. She fidgeted impatiently until a click and a voice on the other end of the line told her the connection had been made. "Is Stacey there? It's Barbara Mason." She waited impatiently until a new voice replied. "Stacey? It's Barbara Mason from Rockport. Did you get the stuff I had couriered to you yesterday on a patient of mine named Benton Quest? Can you check for me? It's important. Yeah, thanks. I'll wait." Shoving things around on the top of the desk, she located a pad of paper and a pen. "You did? Good. Have you had the chance to get to any of them yet? Damn. Look, I know it's a lot to ask, but can you expedite them for me? Yes. As soon as you can. I really need those results. Okay, I'll give you a call first thing in the morning, then. Yes. Thanks, Stacey, I'll owe you one." She hung up the phone and tossed the pen back onto the desk in frustration. When she turned, she found Estella standing in the doorway.

"We've got a serious problem, don't we? How sick is he?" she asked quietly.

Barbara sighed in frustration, massaging her neck in an effort to ease cramped muscles. "I honestly don't know. He's always been so damned healthy. But I don't like the way he looks, Estella. It may be that he's just stressed and isn't getting enough rest. Or it may be something else entirely. I just don't know. I need those test results, dammit!"

"What do you think it _might_ be?"

Barbara waved a hand helplessly, beginning to pace. "Anemia? A liver disorder? A blood disease? Who knows? He won't talk to me! All he'll say is that he's tired. And, you know, even if the tests come back showing nothing wrong, that's not necessarily saying anything. He's been to so many exotic locations and been exposed to so many strange bugs, it could be almost anything!" She spun and stared at Estella fiercely, her fists clenched at her sides. "I'll tell you this much. If I don't find anything, he's _going_ to see another doctor . . . one with a specialty in more exotic diseases . . . whether he likes it or not. I'm **not** going to let anything happen to him!"

Estella looked at her with sudden understanding. Then she smiled ruefully. "It's not easy, is it?"

"What?"

"Loving one of them."

Barbara opened her mouth to deny the implication, but Estella's look stopped her. Finally, her shoulders slumped and she sighed. "No. No, it's not."

Estella stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. "You should tell him."

"No," Barbara said with finality. "That's not a good idea."

"Why not? He needs to know that he's loved right now."

"He knows that, Estella. Jonny's actions in that room today told him that. He also knows that Hadji and Kefira love him . . . and you and Race. He's not hurting for people who care about him and he's aware of it."

"But they don't love him the way you do."

"No," she said bitterly and waved at the portrait on the nearby wall. "I love him the way _**SHE**_ did." She glared up at the lovely blonde in the picture. "You know, I could really learn to hate that woman, Estella." Then she shook her head and sighed deeply. "No, that's not fair. It's not Rachel's fault . . . it's not anyone's fault. Furthermore, it's beside the point. The important thing is that right now, the last thing in the world he needs is someone new that he can use as an emotional crutch. He has to learn to stand alone . . . to find his own center and to build on that. If he doesn't, the next time something happens to one of the people he cares about, it's liable to kill him. Substituting someone new for him to lean on is not the way for him to get better." She straightened and squared her shoulders in determination. "Right now, the best thing I can do for him is to be his doctor and his friend." She stepped past the other woman and reached for the door. "I want to get my medical bag out of the car and take a closer look at him. Once I've done that, I want him to get some more sleep. Hopefully, I'll know more once I get those test results back tomorrow morning."

"All right," Estella agreed, but she leaned against the door, holding it closed for a moment longer. "One thing, though. When **you** need someone to talk to, you know where to find me. Take advantage of the offer, Barbara. You're setting yourself up for a rough time, and it will help to have someone to vent to."

Barbara caught her hand and squeezed it. "Thank you. I will."

The two of them left the study and as Estella headed back for her quarters, Barbara headed for the front of the house. As she passed the family room door, a hand snaked out and dragged her into that room. Jonny drew her into the corner of the room, out of sight of the door, where Jessie was waiting.

"What's wrong with him?" Jonny demanded in a low, urgent voice.

Barbara sighed inwardly. _I ought to just call a meeting,_ she thought. "I don't know yet, Jonny."

"He's not just tired! I've seen him tired before, and it was nothing like this."

"It might be . . ."

"But you don't think so," he pursued relentlessly. Barbara suddenly felt very sorry for the administration at M.I.T. Persistent didn't even _begin_ to cover it.

Slowly, she shook her head. "No, I don't think he's just tired. I think it's more than that. The exhaustion comes on him too abruptly and I don't like the way his color changes. But I honestly don't know what it is. I'm trying to find out, but you know what your father is like. Getting a straight answer out of him when it comes to his own health is like pulling teeth." Jonny stared at her intensely and she could see him thinking hard.

It was Jessie that voiced the thought that was obviously on both of their minds. "Should we stay, Dr. Mason? We will, if that's what you think would be best." Jonny nodded.

_What did that cost them?_ Barbara wondered, looking from one to the other. She didn't doubt that if she told them that it was in Benton's best interests to stay, they would do it. Jonny would lose his job, and both of them would leave themselves open to the same environment that they had been living through day after day for months. And would it really accomplish anything? If stress was what was causing the problem, having the two of them here, unhappy but solicitous, would be unlikely to help the situation. 

She shook her head. "That's not a decision I can make for you. This has to be your choice. I've told you that I don't know what's wrong with your father, Jonny, and that's the truth. I _will_ promise you that whether you choose to stay or go, I won't rest until I find out." Jonny sighed, and Barbara grinned at him. "I'm sorry, son, but you were the one who said you were an adult and wanted to be able to make your own decisions. Unfortunately, they aren't always easy and there's usually no crystal ball to tell you what you should do."

Jonny nodded. "I understand." He looked at Jessie and said, "What do you think?"

She thought about it for a minute. "Is there anything we can do to help, Dr. Mason? If we stayed, I mean?"

Barbara shook her head. "Not that I know of."

Jessie turned back to Jonny. "It's your call, love. He's your father. I'll follow your lead."

"You will keep us informed, right? About whatever you find out? Even if Dad doesn't want you to tell us?"

"Now, Jonny, you know I can't do that." Barbara said with a frown. "Not if your father tells me not to." 

"Not that he'd tell me, either," Jonny said with disgust. He thought a bit longer and then looked at Barbara again. "If there's nothing we can do here, then I think we don't have a choice but to go ahead with our plans. I really don't want to lose that job."

Barbara nodded. "Alright. Be sure to let me know how to reach you in case I need to." Jonny and Jessie nodded and then the three of them separated to their various tasks.

  


* * * * *

  


"That's cold!" Benton complained.

"Like I haven't heard that before," Barbara replied, laughing. She shifted the stethoscope to the other side of his chest and directed, "Breathe deeply." She repeated the process several times and then had him sit up and went through the same procedure across his back. When she finally finished, he looked at her with his old, wry humor.

"So, Doctor, will I live?"

"You're too ornery to do anything else. You know that. So tell me, Dr. Quest, how have you been feeling? Any pain or discomfort anywhere? Swollen glands? Dizziness? Nausea?"

"No."

"Any old diseases that might be coming back to haunt you?"

Benton sighed as he lay back down. "I had malaria once, but it's not that, trust me. I also had all of the standard childhood diseases and a bout of scarlet fever when I was fairly young. Other than that, nothing."

"You mentioned having a headache. Have you been suffering from headaches a lot recently?"

Reluctantly, he admitted, "Yes. A lot more than I used to, but I'm sure it's nothing more than stress. Honestly, I feel fine. I just haven't been sleeping well for quite a while so I'm very, very tired. And that's all due to tension. I just can't seem to turn my brain off." He stirred restlessly. "Will he be okay, Barbara? He's making some really bad decisions . . ."

"He's making his **own** decisions, Benton. Whether they're good or bad, only time will tell."

A soft knock on the door interrupted them.

"Come!"

The door opened and Jonny and Jessie came in. Both of them hesitated just over the threshold and after a minute, Jonny said, "We're ready to leave. We just wanted to come in and say goodbye."

"I'll walk you out to . . ." Benton said as he began to sit up. All three of them reacted immediately. Barbara caught his shoulders and pushed him back down onto the bed as Jonny jumped forward to help her. 

Jessie surged to the end of the bed, with a muffled exclamation. "No, Dr. Quest! You need to rest." 

"Stop it . . . all of you! I'm not at death's door!" he responded irritably, but the expression on Jonny's face pulled him up sharply. He reached out and snatched at his son's arm as Jonny started to pull away. "I'm sorry! I . . . I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

Barbara could see Jonny struggle for a minute, before he patted his father's hand and said, "It's okay, Dad. I know. But it won't hurt you to rest and there really isn't anything that you can help with. It's all done. We just wanted to see you one more time before we left." Suddenly, he leaned over and gave his father a fast, awkward hug before stepping away. "You take care of yourself." His voice was rough and Benton could see a glimmer of unshed tears in his eyes. Jonny held his father's gaze for a moment, then he turned and strode out of the room quickly.

"Goodbye, Dr. Quest," Jessie said quietly and turned to leave.

"Jessie, wait!" The young woman turned back. "Come here for a minute." Benton patted the bed beside him and after a brief hesitation, she sat down next to him. He caught her hands and looked at her steadily. "I am very sorry if you ever thought that I objected to you as the woman that my son loves. I never have. You **are** the daughter I never had and I don't want you to ever doubt that. I may think you're both too young for the actions you're taking, but it doesn't change the way I feel about you. I also know that you've done everything you could to try to ease things between Jonny and I. If you had taken offense over the last several months, I would have lost my son for good. There will never be any way I can thank you for that."

Jessie sat there for a minute, looking at the older man and blinking very hard. Suddenly, she flung herself down across his chest and clung to him tightly. Benton wrapped his arms around her and held her close. "I love you very much, Jessica Bannon," he said softly.

After a minute, Jessie sat up again, sniffing. "You take care of yourself, Dr. Quest. We'll call when we're settled." She turned away, but they both heard her soft voice. "I love you, too." And then she was gone.

  


* * * * *

  


It was after 8:00 p.m. when Barbara cracked the door to Benton's room and looked in on him again. Hadji and Kefira had left to go back to Colombia about an hour before and Race and Estella had just retired to the family room to relax and watch some TV. Things seemed to have settled down and she decided it was time for her to go home.

"I'm awake," Benton said. "I heard the phone. Was it them?"

"Yes," she replied, coming to stand by the side of the bed. "The truck is unloaded and everything is in the apartment. How do you feel?"

"Better. I got some sleep, at least."

"But not enough," she warned him. "I don't want you up tonight."

He shifted restlessly. "I don't know that I'll be able to sleep any more."

"Oh, yes you will," she replied firmly. Turning, she picked up a bottle and shook a capsule out into her hand. Picking up a nearby water glass, she sat down on the edge of the bed and ordered, "Take this."

"I don't need that!" he said sullenly.

"Yes, you do. I want you to sleep soundly tonight."

"Speaking of sleeping soundly," he said angrily, "I was out cold all last night. You doped me when I wasn't looking, didn't you?"

"Yes," she replied, without any trace of remorse.

"I won't tolerate that, Barbara. I don't like to take sleeping pills," 

"And you haven't been sleeping worth a damn, either, have you?"

He shifted restlessly again, and finally admitted, "No."

"Tonight you will. I'm not going to keep feeding them to you, but I want you to get one or two nights of sound sleep. I'm worried about you, Benton. You're stretched too thin. This will help relieve some of that. And to ensure that you get a good start, I'm going to sit right here until you are soundly asleep. So take it and let's get this show on the road."

"You can be a serious bully, you know that?" he commented sourly, swallowing the pill she gave him.

She fought to hide her grin. "I've had lots of practice."

Benton settled back again and lay quietly for a time. Then he said, "They're all gone now, aren't they?"

"Race and Estella are downstairs."

"But Jonny and Jessie are gone."

"Yes."

"And Hadji and Kefira."

"Yes, they're gone, too."

He sighed softly. "Where did the time go, Barbara? When did they grow up?"

"Life moves very quickly when you aren't paying attention."

"Too quickly."

"It will be okay, Benton. They're good kids . . . all of them. You don't need to worry about them."

"That's what everyone keeps telling me." He turned his head and looked up at her, groping for her hand in the dim light. "I owe you more than I'll ever be able to repay."

"We aren't keeping score," she replied, squeezing his hand gently. "I'm just glad that you felt you could come to me when you needed help."

"You're a good friend."

She could hear the drowsiness in his voice and she bit her lip against the surge of tenderness that filled her. "I'm here whenever you need me."

"I know."

She sat there holding his hand for a long time. Slowly, his breathing deepened and evened out as he sank into sleep. Finally, she slipped her hand out of his loosened grasp and tucked his arm under the blanket carefully. Pulling the bedclothes up around his chin, she gazed at him by the moonlight streaming in through the nearby windows. She reached out and stroked his hair lightly before she whispered, "Benton?" He didn't stir. She hesitated for a moment, then leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips.

"Good night, dear heart," she breathed. Then, she crossed the room silently and slipped away.


	4. Part IV

**Part IV**

  


The rain of the prior day had moved out and the sun shone down on the quiet, peaceful town of Rockport, Maine. Birds sang sweetly, a soft breeze set the spring flowers to dancing, and just off the coast, bright sailboats bobbed cheerfully on the gently rolling waves. The joyful cries of the children, recently freed from school for the summer, echoed up and down the streets on all side of him as Benton Quest walked aimlessly through town. He smiled and returned greetings pleasantly, even stopping to chat once or twice, but his mind seemed disconnected. Life had changed for him in some mysterious way and he was struggling to make sense of it. He stood on one of the high streets above the harbor park and watched two young boys playing an impromptu game of one-on-one soccer. Their endless energy and delighted calls brought back memories of his own sons. It seemed like just yesterday it had been Jonny and Hadji down there. Now both of them were gone.

_Time moves on and things change,_ he thought to himself. _That's the way things are supposed to work._ He turned away from the view and continued his slow walk. His thoughts returned to the day before and the meeting with his son. _When did we reach the point where it took an outside party to be able to find a way for us to talk?_ he asked himself. He was ashamed when he thought of the things he had said and done over the past several months. Jonny had been right to be angry with him. Benton sighed. And ashamed or not, he still hated the fact that his son was living in Boston with his girlfriend, with no intention of going on to school. It didn't matter that it was Jonny's decision and that it was one he really should honor. He still hated it.

_Life moves on,_ he reminded himself again. _My sons have taken the first steps into their new lives. I need to do the same. But how?_ He began walking slowly again. As he descended the hill, heading for the harbor, he ran into several people he knew. After several light, pleasant conversations, he finally stood alone, not far from Barbara Mason's office again. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he began walking slowly toward his car. _How do I start over?_ he asked himself again. Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled out his car keys. As he did so, a piece of paper fluttered to the ground. Reaching down, he picked it up and opened it. In Barbara's spidery scrawl, were three sets of names and addresses. 

James W. Sipich, LCSW  
Family Medical Center  
Augusta, Maine

Merry Ellen Aden, MS, MSW  
The Center for Children and Families  
Orono, Maine

David Upton, M.D., Ph.D.  
United Family Services  
Boston, Massachusetts

He gazed at the names for a long time, thinking again about the question of starting over. Then, carefully folding the piece of paper and putting it back in his pocket, he crossed the distance to his car and started for home.

  


* * * * *

  


Barbara Mason tossed the copies of Benton Quest's lab results onto the desk in disgust. Damn the man. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Just because the tests she had run didn't turn up anything obviously wrong didn't mean there wasn't a problem. She rose from her desk and began to pace restlessly. Somehow, she had to get him to another doctor . . . one that could figure out what was wrong with him. If only _something_ had shown up in the lab tests she had run. She'd even taken the extra blood sample so that she could expand the range of tests performed. Blood sugar, cholesterol, triglycerides, the metabolic panel, the liver panel, the urinalysis . . . nothing. Everything showed within normal ranges. So naturally, he wouldn't hear of pursuing it any further.

"'I'm just tired' he says," she muttered aloud in agitation. "Tired my ass! Goddamn it, Benton, there's something wrong with you! Why won't you help me find out what it is?" She picked up the sheaf of lab results and stared at them again, willing them to show her _something_ that would explain what was going on, but there was still nothing. She flung them from her in a fit of frustrated anger. _**"What is WRONG with you?"**_ she snarled to the empty room around her. The door to her office opened suddenly and Kathy stuck her head in the door.

"You call me?"

_**"No!"**_

"Oops. Sorry." As the door closed, Barbara sighed and walked over to the window. As she gazed out toward the harbor, she suddenly spotted Benton. He was walking slowly along the sidewalk with no apparent goal in mind. Craning her head, she could just see the back end of his gray Mercedes still parked outside her office. She hadn't realized he'd gone out walking when he left. She watched as Alison Chen, the owner of the local flower shop, stopped him and the two of them stood talking. She saw Benton laugh and Alison grinned back at him cheerfully. Then she waved and moved off.

Barbara's heart ached as she watched him standing there alone. She wanted to go to him so much . . . to hold him and let him know how _much_ she cared . . . to find a way to wipe the sorrow and loneliness out of his eyes. She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the window, trying desperately to control the desire to run out, throw her arms around him, and kiss him senseless. Finally, the sound of a car caused Barbara to open her eyes just in time to see the gray Mercedes back out of the parking space and drive away. With a sniff, Barbara turned away from the window and crossed over to pull a tissue from the box on the desk. Estella was right. It was hard loving one of the Quest men.

  


* * * * *

  


The main house at the Quest Compound seemed unnaturally quiet. Benton was in Rockport with Barbara Mason and all of the kids were gone.

_Pretty much gone for good,_ Race thought. _Times change . . ._

He thought about Benton and his violent reaction to the revelation of the extent of Jonny and Jessie's relationship again, and asked himself why he hadn't been as upset by the discovery as his old friend had been. It didn't take him long to find the answer. He loved his daughter fiercely, but she was not the center of his life . . . not anymore. Once he might have reacted the way Benton had, but things had changed for him in the last year. In a miracle he could never have hoped for, Estella Antonia Higuerra Velasquez-Bannon had come back into his life again. There were times when he woke with an irrational fear that her returning to him was nothing more than a dream. At those times, he would roll over and cling to her frantically, truly understanding Benton Quest for the first time in his life. Pity suddenly filled him. He felt so sorry for Benton. All he had left were memories . . .

That fear suddenly caught at him. He wanted to see her . . . now. He spun and went searching for Estella. He needed to hold her and reassure himself that she really was here and his wife again.

He knew she wasn't in the lighthouse . . . he'd just been out there. And he'd come through the kitchen and she wasn't there, either. There was no reason she would be upstairs, and she wasn't in the family room, so he headed for their suite. He found her just coming out of the bathroom.

"There you are!" he said, crossing the room quickly. He caught her in his arms and cuddled her close, laying his cheek against the top of her head.

"Well, here's a greeting," she said, tightening her arms around him. "Did you need me for something?"

"No. . . yes! I just had a sudden need to hold you and reassure myself that you were real."

She leaned back in his arms and looked up at him in astonishment. "Real? What do you mean, real?"

She looked pale and beautiful and incredibly precious to him as she looked up from startled, green eyes. He caressed her cheek with his palm, allowing his fingers to slide into her hair. "I had this sudden fear that I'd been dreaming; that I was about to wake up and find you really hadn't come back to me."

She reached up and caught him by the nape of the neck, drawing his head down until her lips brushed his. "I'm very real and I'll never leave you again," she whispered against his lips. Then she kissed him. The intensity of her response caused him to draw her tightly against him and to respond with ardor. It was quite a bit later that she stirred against his chest and said hesitantly, "Race, I need to talk to you about something."

He lay there lazily, sated and deeply content. "Okay. Shoot."

She propped herself up on an elbow and rested her chin on his chest. "Things have been rough lately, haven't they?"

Race chuckled. "That's putting it mildly."

"There's an awful lot of change going on right now, and that's not very easy . . . particularly for Benton."

"No, he's had a difficult time recently." He frowned. "I hope Barbara's wrong about him having a health problem."

"So am I." She was quiet for a while. Finally, she asked, "How do you think he's going to cope with everything that's happened?"

"He'll be okay. It takes him some time to adjust, but he'll learn. And I really do think he'll come to terms with Jonny and Jessie's decision. It definitely won't be easy, but he's a survivor." He craned his head and looked down at her, suddenly getting the feeling there was something else on her mind. "What's bothering you, Estella? Why the sudden concern about how Benton's doing?"

She stiffened. "I've been concerned all along!"

"I know you have," he said soothingly, "but there's something else bothering you. I can tell. What is it?" She rubbed her cheek against his chest, refusing to look at him. He reached down and caught her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "What?"

"There's another change coming," she replied hesitantly.

"What change?" he demanded.

She gazed at him for a long time before she answered softly, "I'm pregnant again, Race."

He froze, staring at her. "You're sure?" he whispered.

"Oh, yes. This time there's no question about it."

He caught her against him and rolled over, laying her back on the bed and looking down at her. "We're going to have another baby?" he whispered. "That's why you've been getting sick?"

She nodded. "I'd started to suspect I might be. Then last week, when I didn't start for the second month in a row . . . " 

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded.

"Because I was afraid I was wrong again. And I knew how much you wanted this . . ."

He looked at her, disturbed. "I thought you wanted another child, too. Are you having second thoughts, Stel?"

"No!" Her hand drifted to her stomach and caressed it possessively. "Our baby . . ." Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and she reached out and touched his face. "A child, Race . . . _our_ child. Oh, God, I love you so much . . ."

He stroked her stomach with an awestruck look and then held her close again.

"But Race," she finally said, "what about Benton? What's this going to do to him?"

He looked at her. "He'll be happy for us, Stel, I know he will."

"Can we ask him to be the godfather . . . and legal guardian if something should happen to us? Would he be willing to do that, do you think?"

"I think he would be honored."

"And maybe . . . a new interest for him?"

Race looked at her for a long moment and then slowly he began to smile. "Yes, I think maybe a new interest . . ." He hugged her enthusiastically. "New life in the Quest Compound . . . I think he'll be thrilled . . ."

  


* * * * *

  


Jonny woke suddenly, disoriented. _Where am I?_ he thought in confusion. He sat up and looked around him. A room, moderate sized . . . blue walls, white lace curtains, blue fleur-de-lis carpet, white, ornate furniture with blue floral tapestry seats and gilt trim. He rubbed his face, trying desperately to remember where he was and how he got here. Suddenly, there was a loud thump from the other room. The sound of Jessie's voice, swearing colorfully, and the muffled barking of a very large dog followed it almost immediately. Then he remembered. Boston . . . they were in Boston. This was their new apartment and in four days, he would start a new job. It was the start of a whole new life for the two of them.

Rising quickly, he found his pants where he had tossed them the night before and pulled them on. Following the sound out into the living room, he found Jessie struggling to right a large box that had obviously fallen over as she tried to wrestle it from the top of a large stack. Just as he opened his mouth to greet her, there was a loud thumping from below his feet and the sound of a raised female voice. To his astonishment, Jessie stomped three times on the floor and yelled, "Shut up, Magnus! Sorry, Mrs. Taylor."

A distant, disembodied voice replied, "That's alright, dear. Don't mind Magnus. He's just saying hello."

Jessie looked up and saw Jonny. "Good morning!" she said cheerfully, as he came up to her.

"Morning," he said, righting the box she had been struggling with. Then he kissed her. "You could have gotten me up, you know, rather than risking your lovely neck trying to move boxes too big for you."

She laughed. "I could have started on another box, but I wanted the one with the camping gear in it."

"The camping gear? What for?"

"The only dishes we own are the ones in our camping gear. You want breakfast, don't you?"

"Well, that sounds great, but do we have any food in the apartment?"

"Yeah, I ran down to the local market after I got up this morning. I figured we'd better have something in the fridge or we'd never be able to stick to unpacking."

"You've been busy," he said, shifting two more boxes to reach the one she wanted. "And who the heck is Mrs. Taylor?"

"Our new downstairs neighbor. I met her at the market. She's really cool . . . she's in her 70's, feisty as all get out, and still manages on her own."

"I take it she must have a dog."

Jessie laughed. "I'll say . . . his name is Magnus, he's a huge, sand-colored Irish wolfhound that weighs in at about 150 pounds. When he starts barking, he literally shakes the walls. Mrs. Taylor says that whenever he starts, we're to stomp on the floor three times and yell, 'Shut up, Magnus' and he'll quiet down." Jessie grinned. "She says he's been trained to do that."

"Well, that's unique. I'll bet this is just one of the many new experiences we have to look forward to as part of apartment living."

"No doubt."

Jonny wandered over and pulled back the curtain to look out the window. He looked out over a quiet, narrow, tree-lined street filled with brick buildings. It disoriented him for some reason and suddenly he missed the view from his bedroom in the Compound.

"Hey," Jessie said softly, laying her hand on his arm. "What's wrong?"

Letting the curtain drop back into place, he turned and smiled down at her. "Nothing," he replied.

Jessie frowned and shook her finger at him. "Not a good way to start our life together, Jonny Quest."

"What?"

"Not being honest. Something is bothering you. I can see it on your face. What is it?"

Jonny rubbed his neck and looked thoughtful. "I don't know . . . I'm just feeling a little strange. Kind of out of place, I guess."

Jessie nodded, her smile fading. "I know. I woke up this morning feeling . . . " She trailed off.

"Homesick."

"Well, yeah." She looked up at him, her eyes sad. "I'm sorry, Jonny."

Putting his arms around her, he drew her against him and cuddled her. "There's no reason to be sorry. I'm homesick, too. I miss Dad and Race and Estella . . . and Hadji and Kefira, too. And I'm worried sick about Dad." He reached out and tipped her head back so she had to look up at him. "But what else could we do, Jess? I couldn't live with what Dad wanted, but you know, he was right. It _**is**_ his house. He's worked long and hard to provide us with all the things we had. He's earned the right to be able to draw the line if something makes him uncomfortable."

"It was our home, too," Jessie protested.

Jonny nodded. "Yes, it was. But it was there because he worked to see to it that it was. He said it. 'Not in my house.' I know it was said in anger, and if you asked him now, he'd probably tell you that he didn't mean it. But the truth is, he did. And he has the right to feel that way in that house . . . just like we have the right to set limits that we're comfortable with in this one. You know, I think that in the end, it was _**that**_ realization that made me decide it was time that we got out and made our own way. If he's uncomfortable with us having a physical relationship in his house, he's right to tell us that and ask that we don't do it. Just like we had the right to make the choice to leave his house if we couldn't live with that decision."

"That's the reason you hadn't . . . since March . . ."

Jonny nodded. "Yes. I owed him that much respect, no matter how upset I was with him. And he owed me the respect to allow me to make my own choices . . . which he did. He didn't like it, Jess. He all but begged me not to go. But in the end, he accepted that I had the right to do as I saw fit, and he finally seemed to understand that I really believe this is the right thing for us."

"I do, too."

The two of them looked around at all of the boxes piled in this strange place, feeling uneasy.

"Growing up, Jess. I guess this is part of the process, too."

"Yeah, I guess so." She looked up at him again, seeking reassurance. "We'll be okay, right?"

"Yes, love," he replied, looking around uneasily once again. "I'm sure we'll be fine."

  


**THE END**

  


(c) 2000 Debbie Kluge

  


DISCLAIMER: The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest and all characters, logos, and likenesses therein, are trademarks of and copyrighted by Hanna-Barbera Productions, Inc., and Hanna-Barbera Cartoons, Inc., a Turner company. No copyright infringement is intended by their use in this story. All other material, copyright 2000 by Deborah A. Kluge. All rights reserved. Characters and stories are in no way affiliated with, approved of or endorsed by Hanna Barbera or Turner Productions. This is created by a fan for other fans out of love and respect for the show, and is strictly a non-profit endeavor.


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